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_JSEV ^TEMPERA5CE PLAYS.-I5 i 

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i, 11 5 Bottlr 11 6 

s. 12 5 Drunkard's Doom, - - 15 5 



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Life 10 4 Aunt llinnb's riertse. 



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Temperance Doctor, . 10 4 
Fruits of the Wine flip, - 6 3 



Drunkard's Warning., (( 



No. LXVI. 



FRENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA. 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 



21 (Eoiti^s, 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



BY WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 



WITH THE STAGE BUSINESS, CAST OF CHARAC- 
TERS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS, ETC, 



NEW YORK : * 

SAMUEL FRENCH, 

122 Nassau Street, (Up Staiks.) 



BOOKS EVE 
VttATEUR'S GUIDE; or, Hov 

Laws, Selected Scenes, Plays and 
GUIDE TO THE S'17 
Anything on 



RBBOBH& 1 



,/r A.TETJB, SHOTTED HAVE. 

Jlome Theatricr Is and to Act in Them, with Eules, By 
information for Amateur Societies. Price 26 cts. 

,ents. ART OF ACTING. 15 cents. 
sent by mail on receipt ofnrice+ 



r 



RENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA 



Price 1 5 Cents each.— Bound Volumes $1. 25. 



YOL. I. 
I Ton 
'i Fazio 
'i The Lady of Lyons 

4 Richelieu 

5 The Wife 

6 The Honeymoon 

7 The School for Scandal 

8 Money 

VOL. II. 

9 The Stranger 

JO Grandfather Whitehead 
U Richard III 

12 Love's Sacrifice 

13 The Gamester 

14 A Cure for the Heartache 

15 The Hunchback 

16 Bon Caesar de Bazan 

VOL. III. 

17 The Poor GentlemaD 

18 Hamlet 

19 Charles II 

20 Venice Preserved 
l\ Pizarro 

•n The Love Chase 

13 Othello 

U Lend me Five Shillings 

VOL. IV. 
?,5 Virginius ■ 

26 King of the Commons 

27 London Assurance 

28 The Rent Day 

29 Two Gentlemen ofVerona 

30 The Jealous Wife 

31 The Rivals 

32 Perfection 

VOL. V. [Debts 

33 A New Way to Pay Old 

34 Look Before Vou Leap 

35 King John 

36 Nervous Man 

37 Daniou and Pythias 

38 Clandestine Marriage 

39 William Tell 

40 Day after the Wedding 

VOL. VI. 

41 Speed the Plough 

42 Romso and Juliet 

43 Feudal Times 

44 Charles the Twelfth 

45 The Bridal 

46 The Follies of a Night 

47 Iron Chest I Fair Lady 

48 Faint Heart Never Won 

VOL. VII. 

49 Road to Ruin 

50 Macbeth 

51 Temper 

52 Kvadne 

53 Bertram 

54 The Duenna 

55 Much Ado About Nothing 

56 The Critio 

VOL. VIII. 

57 The Apostate 

58 Twelfth Night 

69 Brutus 

60 Simpson & Co 

61 Merchant of Venice 

62 Old Heads& Young Hearts 

63 Mountaineers triage 

64 Three Weeks after Mar 

VOL. IX. 

65 Love 

65 As You Like It 
67 The Elder Brother 
63 Werner 
69GiBippus 

70 Town and Country 

71 King Lear 

72 Blue Devils 

VOL. X. 

73 Henry VIII 

74 Married and Single 

75 Henry IV 

76 Paul Pry 

77 Ouy Mannering 

78 Sweethearts and Wives 

79 Serious Family 

80 She Stoops to Conquer 



VOL. XI. 

81 Julius Cassar 

82 Vicar of Wakefield 

83 Leap Year 

84 The Catspaw 

85 The Passing Cloud 

86 Drunkard 

87 Rob Roy 

88 George Barnwell 

VOL. XII. 

89 Ingomar 

90 Sketches in India 

91 Two Frienc's 

92 Jane Shore 

93 Corsican Brothers 

94 Miud your own Business 

95 Writing on the Wall 

96 Heir at Law 

VOL. XIII. 

97 Soldier's Daughter 

98 Douglas 

99 Marco Spada 

100 Nature's Nobleman 

101 Sardanapalus 

102 Civilization 

103 The RobbeTS 

104 Katharint and Petruchio 

VOL. XIV. 

105 Game of Love 

106 Midsummer Night's 

107 Ernestine [Dream 

108 Rag Picker of Paris 

109 Flying Dutchman 

110 Hypocrite 

111 Therese 

112 La Tour de Nesle 
VOL. XV. 

113 Ireland As It Is 

114 Sea of Ice 

115 Seven Clerks 

116 Game of Life 

117 Forty Thieves 

118 Bryan Boroihme 

119 Romance and Reality 

120 Ugolino 

VOL. XVI. 

121 The Tempest 

122 The Pilot 

123 Carpenter of Rouen 

124 King's Rival 

125 Little Treasure 

126 Dombey and Son 

127 Parents and Guardians 

128 Jewess 

VOL. XVII 

129 Canaille 

130 Married Life 

131 Wenlock of Wenlock 

132 Rose of Ettrickvale 

133 David Copperfield 

134 Aline, or the Rose of 

135 Pauline [Killarney 

136 Jane Eyre 
VOL. XVIII. 

137 Night and Morning 

138 jElhiop 

139 Three Guardsmen 

140 Tom Cringle 

141 Heuriette, the Forsaken 

142 Eustache Baudin 

143 Ernest Maltravers 

144 Bold Drasoons 

VOL. XIX. 

145 Dred, or the Dismal 

i Swamp 

146 Last Days of Pompeii 

147 Esmeralda 

148 Peter Wilkins 

149 Ben the Boatswain 

150 Jonathan Bradford 

151 Retribution 

152 Minerali 

VOL. XX. 

153 French Spy 

154 Wept of Wish-ton Wish 
15> Evil Genius 

156 Ben Bolt 

157 Sailor of France 

158 Red Mask 

159 Life of an Actress 

160 Wedding Day 
(Catalogue continued o 



VOL. XXI. 

161 All's Fair in Love 

162 Hofer 
!63 Self 

164 Cinderella 

165 Phantom 

166 Franklin [Moscow 

167 The Gunmaker of 

168 The Love of a Prince 
VOL. XXII. 

169 Son or the Night 

170 Rory O'More 

171 Golden Eagle 

172 Rienzi 

173 Broken Sword 

174 Rip Van Winkle 

175 Isabella 

176 Heart of Mid Lothian 
VOL. XXIII. 

177 Actress of Padua 

178 Floating Beacon 

179 Bride of Lamermoor 

180 Cataract of the Ganges 

181 Robber of the Rhine 

182 School of Reform 

183 Wandering Boys 

184 Mazeppa 
VOL. XXIV. 

185 Young New York 

186 The Victims 

187 Romance after Marriage 

188 Brigand 

189 Poor of New York 

190 Ambrose Gwinett 

191 Raymond and Agnes 

192 Gamblers Fate 
VOL. XXV. 

193 Father and Son 

194 Massaniello 

195 Sixteen String Jack 

196 Youthful Queen 

197 Skeleton Witness 

198 Innkeeper of Abbeville 

199 Miller and his Men 

200 Aladdin 
VOL. XXVI. 

7.01 Adrienne the Actress 

202 Undine ' 

203 Jessie Brown 

204 Asmodeus 

205 Mormons 

206 Blanche of Brandywine 

207 Viola 

208 Deseret Deserted 
VOL. XXVII. 

209 Americans in Paris 

210 Victorine 

211 Wizard of the Wave 

212 Castle Spectre 

213 Horse-shoe Robinson 

214 Armand, Mrs Mowatt 

215 Fashion, Mrs Mowatt 

216 Glance at New York 
VOL. XXVIII. 

217 Inconstant 

218 Uncle Tom's Cabin 

219 Guide to the Stage 

220 Veteran 

221 Miller of New Jersey 

222 Dark Hour before Dawn 

223 Midsum'r Night's Dream 
[Laura Keene's Edition 

224 Art and Artifice 
VOL. XXIX 

225 Poor Young Man 

226 Ossawattomie Brown 

227 Pope of Rome 

228 Oliver Twist 

229 Pauvrette 

230 Man in the Iron Mask 

231 Knight of Arva 

232 Moll Pitcher 
VOL. XXX. 

233 Black Eyed Susan 

234 Satan in Paris 
<:35 Rosina Meadows jess 

236 West End, or Irish Heir- 

237 gix Degrees of Crime 

238 The Laiy and the Devil 

239 Avenger.orMnorof hici-1319 

240 Masks a" " ' ) [ty|320 
n third cover.) 



VOL. XXXI. 
Merry Wives of Windsor 
Mary's Birthday 
Sbandy Maguire 
Wild Oats 
Michael Erie 
Idiot Witness 
Willow Copse 
People's Lawyer 

VOL. XXXII. 
The Boy Martyrs 
Lucretia Borgia 
Surgeon of Paris 
Patrician's Daughter 
Shoemaker of Toulouse 
Momentous Question 
Love and Loyalty 
Robber's Wife 

VOL. XXXIII. 
Dumb Girl of Genoa 
Wreck Ashore 
Clari 

Rural Felicity 
Wallace 
Madelaine 
The Fireman 
Grist to the Mill 

VOL. XXXIV. 
Two Loves and a Ufa 
Annie Blake 
Steward 
Captain Kyd 
Nick of the Woods 
Marble Heart 
Second Love 
Dream at Sea 

VOL. XXXV. 
Breach of Promise 
Review 

Lady of the Lake 
Still Water Runs Daep 
The Scholar 
Helping Hands 
Faust and Marguerite 
Last Man 

VOL. XXXVI. 
Belle's Stratagem 
Old and Young 
Raffaella 
Ruth Oakley 
British Slave 
A Life's Ransom 
Giralda 
Time Tries All 

VOL. XXXVII. 
Ella Rosenburg 
Warlock of the Glen 
Zelina 
Beatrice 

Neighbor Jackwood 
Wonder 
Robert Emmet 
Green Bushes 

VOL. XXXVIII. 
Flowers of the Forest 
A Bachelor of Arts 
The Midnight Banquet 
Husband of an Hour 
Love's Labor Lost 
Naiad Queen 
Caprice 
Cradle of Liberty 

VOL. XXXIX. 
The Lost Ship 
Country Squire 
Fraud and its Victims 
Putnam 

King and Deserter 
La Fiammina 
A Hard St Tiggle 
Gwinnett Yaughan 

VOL. XL. 
The Love Knot [Judge 
Lavater, or Not a Bad 
The Noble Heart 
Coriolanus 
The Winter's Tale 
Eveleen Wilson 
Ivanhoe 
Jonathan in England 



No. LXVI 
FRENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA. 



I- 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 



& GTotnefcg 



IN FIVE ACTS 



BY WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. 



WITH THE STAGE BUSINESS, CAST OP CHARACTERS, REL^ 
TIVE POSITIONS, ETC. 



NEW YORK: 
SAMUEL FRENCH, PUBLISHER, 

122 Nassau Street, (Up Stairs.) 



<LCP, 



CAST OF 

Covent Garden, 1825, 
The Duke ••• ...... Mr. JEgerton 

Duke Frederick. . " ^^ 
Amiens " £ar£m 

f-efeau « Horreboio 

Eustace « i|fy n o- 

L^is « M& * s 

O^ver.. « Cowwr 

Jaquesde Bois... " £«&«- 

O^ •• " CKemble 

;>, d »™ " Chapman 

™ les ° Cm^rto-n 

f f llh ^ " Blanchard 

1 ouchstone « F« W ft 

V e , ni ? ls " //mry 

OT«is " Cower 

Oonn- " ^afc/Vw 

Rosalind Mm' ifa.es 

Ceha « p 00 ^ 

^ b « b e " SRowC 

Audrey M-s. Gibbs 

H ymen . . Miss Bcnnm; nt 



CHARACTERS 






Park, 1840. 

Mr. Bella7ny 

" Stark 

" S Pearson 

" Chas Kean 

" A Andrews 

" Milct 

" Heath 

" MDouail 

'* Gallot 

" Dyott 

v Barry 

" Matthews 
" Fisher 
" Bass 
" Sprague 
" Sutherland 
" Anderson 
Mrs. Chas Kean 
" Abbott 

n 

" Vernon 



Chesnut, Phil, 1846 
Mr. Fredericks 

" C J Smith 

" J Dunn 

" Chas K'an 

" Bowers 

" Rae 

" Warden 

'* S Johnsor 

'* Linden 

** Morris 

" Jervis 

" G Smith 

u Oivers 

" Burton 

" Bhir.kman 

" Tl>/ 

" £6er& 
JWr*. Chas Kean 

" ULean 

" Rogers 



COSTUMES. 

n men~ B v I ^ n h a ^ h n i 1 t l e > d ?? et ? nd P antal »™s> buff waistcoat, round 
gauntlet. Whlte plume8 » russet boots ' a Vandyke and 

Duke Fkedekick -Purple velvet jacket and trunks, crimson velvet robe 

amiens— Blue doublet and pantaloons, round purple hat and whit* nl.u™ 
russet boots, Vandyke and gauntlets. P * plume ' 

USr B1 ? e d ° ubIet a . n , d P antal °°ns, trimmed with brown fur, black hat 
and blue plume, russet boots, Vandyke and gauntlets. ' 

brown '^ ? br °J2 d0Ub ™ and Platoons, trimmed with light blue 
vandyke' Tc. "' * jacket ' buff P^oons, russet boots! 

°t n | EK ;T^ lue J aC 1 k . e i t ' tl '! inks ' and cloak > ornamented with silver Wa-k 
e Ivet hat and white plumes, russet shoes. Second drses Round bhck 

hat, the other parts of the dress blue entirely. 
loucHSTONB.— A party-coloured (red, white, and blue) doublet trunk. 

and cloak ; a curiously formed cap, with an ear, (like the ear of a, 5S 

'''tf^f'^^-t'T 11 jac Sf f and cloak ' trimmed with silver, light-blue 

pantaloons, white shoes with satin roses, white hat and plumes 
foRiNandSvLvius.-Drab doublet and trunks, russet shoes a7.d brown 

R( Jr^S~^wi® d l e , SS ' s P an 8 led with gold. Second dress : Green tunic 
p, Tt W l tllUI '' blue P antal °ons, round hat, russet boots. 
wi,t;r;! r e dre fi ?P an gJed with silver. Secmd dress: Blue body 
white muslm skirt, trimmed with green flowers. y * 

1 hcebk — White, trimmed with green. ^^^^ 

Audrey— Tawdry gown with large flowers crimson stuffed n-' 
jacket, ruffles, large flat srraw hat. 



EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION. 

This enchanting Comedy is perhaps the most purely ideal of any of 
Shakspeare's plays. Although the plot is borrowed from the novel or taU 
of " Rosalynde," by Thomas Lodge, a contemporary writer, yet Shakspeare 
in passing the materials furnished by the novelist through the alembic of 
his own imagination, has created new characters and incidents, and hag 
imbued the whole with a higher cast of thought and feeling than could 
be attained by Lodge. It is, in fact, the alchemic transmutation of the 
baser metal into pure gold, which Genius, in its adaptive faculty, can alone 
achieve. The contemplative Jacques, that prince of philosophical jesters : 
Touchstone, and the " rustical" Audrey, are pure creations of Shakspeare'* 
fancy, worthy of the master-mind that gave them birth. 

The late annotators of Shakspeare have exercised their en/lite talent oi 
analytical disquisition, by endeavouring to trace the gradual developmenl 
of the great poet's powers, in the successive works he piwduced. " A? 
You Like It," is, by this process of analytical inquiry, re {'erred to that 
epoch of our author's life when he had attained the perfe:Uon of poetic 
and romantic comedy. It was the period when his brilliav.t, youthful ge 
nins, shone forth in all its freshness of intellectual superiority, "mingled 
with the thoughtfulness of maturer age." However doubtful may be the 
'heory of these annotators, the fact will readily be conceded that " As You 
Like It" is one of the most delightful productions of our poet's pen. 

As an acting play, it is perhaps less a favourite, than it b in the closet 
we mean to the present race of pky-goers, for the character of Rosalind is 
almost unapproachable unless by actresses of that high aid peculiar order 
of genius, now so rarely to be found in the professors of taw oistrionic art 



!v EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION. 

Nor are the other prominent characters in this true dramatic treasury 
carcely less difficult of embodiment. What a host of portraits, life-like 
and vivid, are concentrated in the group the poet has peopled his Arcadian 
forest with! 

How beautifully probable is the whole dramatic action of the piece, where, 
in the language of Campbell, " Shakspeare has snatched us out of the 
busy world into a woodland solitude. He makes us breathe its fresh air, 
partake its pastoral peace, feast on its venison, admire its bounding wild 
deer, and sympathise with its banished men and simple rustics. But what 
a tablet of characters! The witty and impassioned Rosalind, the love- 
devoted Orlando, the friendship-devoted Celia, the duty-devoted Adam, 
the humorous Clown, and the melancholy Jacques ; all these, together with 
the dignified and banished Duke, make the Forest of Arden an Elysium to 
our imagination." 

To realize this picture on the stage in all its varied and distinctive beau- 
ties, is, indeed, a difficult task, for it would comprise a stock company of 
individual excellence, now apparently unattainable. 

The revival of this play at the Park during the Beans' late visit to this 
country, however, gave a very fair idea of its exquisite adaptation for 
stage representation. The fascinating Rosalind of Mrs. Charles Kean, was 
a dramatic treat of that high order now unfortunately so rare on the stage ; 
md the scholarly embodiment of Jacques by Mr. Charles Kean, may be 
classed among his happiest efforts. Bass, too, as Touchstone, had imbibed 
the \rue Shakspearian richness ; and Mrs. Abbott was a delightful repre- 
sentative of Celia ; nor should we omit the touching and artistical Old 
Adam of Barry, the spirited Orlando of Dyott, and the well-read Duke of 
Mr. Bland. The play, with this admirable cast, proved eminently attrac- 
tive, but the true student of Shakspeare must always find a higher gratifi- 
cation in the reading, than he can ever hope to experience in the necessa- 
rily imperfect embodiment of it upon the Stage. The ideality of poetry so 
completely invests every portion of this incomparable creation, that the 
ittempt to give ft fictitious reality to it on the Stage is almost hopelesi 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. — Oliver's Orchard. 
Enter Orlando and Adam, r. 

Orl. (r. g.) As I remember, Adam, it was in this fash- 
ion bequeathed me : By will, but a poor thousand crowns ; 
and, as thou say'st, charged my brother, on his blessing, to 
breed me well : and there begins my sadness. My bro- 
ther Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks goldenly 
of his profit : for my own part, he keeps me rustically at 
home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here at home, 
unkept ; for call you that keeping, for a gentleman of my 
birth, that differs not from the stalling of an ox ? His 
horses are bred better ; for, besides that they are fair with 
their feeding, they are taught their manage, and, to that 
end, riders, dearly hired ; but I, his brother, gain nothing 
under him but growth ; for the which his animalsf©*^=fei8- 
d unghill sjare as much bound to him as I. Besides this 
nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the something, that 
nature gave me, his countenance seems to take from me ; he 
lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, 
and as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my edu- 
cation. This is it, Adam, that grieves me ; and the spirit 
of my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny 
against this servitude : I will no longer endure it, though 
yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid it [Crosses, l. 

Adam, (l.) Yonder comes my master, your brother. 

Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will 
shake me up. [ Adam retires uv the Stage, 

Enter Oliver, l. 

OHv, (l. ) Now, sir 1 what make you here ? 



8 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Ad I, 

Orl. fit. o.) Nothing : I am not tanght to make any 
thing. 

Oliv. What mar yon, then, sir ? 

Orl. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which 
Heaven made — a poor unworthy brother of yours, with 
idleness. 

Oliv. Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught a 
while. 

Orl. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them ? 
What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to 
such penury ? 

Oliv. Know you where you are, sir ? 

Orl. Oh, sir, very well : here, in your orchard. 

Oliv. Know you before whom, sir ? 

Orl. Ay, better than he I am before, knows me. I 
know you are my eldest brother ; and, in the gentle con- 
dition of blood, you should so know me. The courtesy of 
nations allows you my better, in that you are the first born ; 
but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there 
twenty brothers betwixt us : I have as much of my father 
in me as you ; albeit, I confess your coming before me is 
nearer to his reverence. 

Oliv. What, boy ! [Advances and lays hold of him. 

Orl. Come, come, elder broker, you are too young in 
this. [Fart. 

Oliv. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain ? 

Orl. I am no villain : I am the youngest son of Sir Row- 
land de Boys ; he was my father, and he is thrice a villain 
that says, such a father begot villains : (Lays hold of Oliver.) 
Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from 
thy throat, till this other had pulled out thy tongue for say 
iug so ; thou hast railed on thyself. 

Adam. (Advancing, l. c.j Sweet masters, be patient ; for 
your father's remembrance, be at accord. 

Oliv. Let me go, I say. 

Orl. I will not, till I please ; you shall hear me My 
father charged you, in his will, to give me good education : 
you have trained me up like a peasant, obscuring and hiding 
from me all gentleman-like qualities : the spirit of my father 
grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it : there- 
fore, allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, 
or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament ; 
with that I will go buy my fortunes. 



Scene II.] as you like it. 9 

Oliv. And what wilt thou do ? beg, when that is spent ? 
Well, sir, get you in ; (Crosses to Oliver's House.) I will not 
long be troubled with you ; you shall have some part of 
your will : I pray you, leave me. 

Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes me for 
my good. [Exit into house. 

Oliv. (b.) [To Adam.] Get you with him, you old dog ! 

Adam. (Crossing.) Is old dog my reward? Most true, 
I have lost my teeth in your service. — Heaven be with my 
old master, he would not have spoken such a word ! 

[Exit into House. 

"Oliv. Is it even so ? begin you to grow upon me ? I 

will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns 

neither. [Exit into the House. 

Scene II. — Oliver's House. 

Enter Oliver, h, 

Oliv. Holloa, Dennis ! 

Enter Dennis, l. 

Den. Calls your worship ? 

Oliv. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here, to 
speak with me ? 

Den. So please you, he is here, and importune access to 
you. 

Oliv. Call him in. (Exit Dennis, l.) 'Twill be a good 
way ; and to-morrow the wrestling is. 

Enter Charles, l. 

Chas. (l.) Good morrow to your worship. 

Oliv. (r.) Good Monsieur Charles ! what's the new news 
at the new court? 

Chas. There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news ; 
that is, the old Duke is banished by his younger brother, the 
new Duke ; and three or four loving lords have put them- 
selves in voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues 
enrich the new Duke ; therefore, he gives them good leave 
to wander. 

Oliv. Can you tell if RosaJud, the old Duke's daughter, 
he banished with her father ? 

Chas. Oh, 'lo ; for the new Duke's daughter, her cou« 



10 AS YOU LIKE IT. [ACT I. 

sin, so loves her — being ever from their cradles bred to- 
gether — that she would have followed her exile, or have died 
to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no less beloved 
of her uncle than his own daughter ; and never two ladies 
loved as they do. 

Oliv. Where will the old Duke live ? 

Chas. They say. hf h already in the forest of Arden, 
and man} a merry man with him ; and there they live like 
the old Robin Hood of England : they say, many young 
gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time care- 
lessly, as they did in the golden world. 

Oliv. (l. c.) What, you wrestle to-morrow, before the 
new Duke ? 

Chas. (r. c.) Marry, do I, sir ; and I came to acquaint 
you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand, 
that your younger brother, Orlando, hath a disposition to 
come in against me, to try a fall : To-morrow, sir, I wres- 
tle for my credit ; and he that escapes me without some 
broken limb, shall acquit him well. Your brothev is but 
young, and tender ; and, for your love, I would be loth to 
foil him, as I must, for mine own honour, if he came in ; 
therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint 
you withal, that either you might stay him for his intend- 
ment, or took such disgrace well as he shall run into ; in 
that it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against 
my will. 

Oliv. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which, 
thou shalt find, I will most kindly requite. I had myself 
notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have, by un- 
derhand means, laboured to dissuade him from it ; but he 
is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles — it is the stubbornest 
young fellow of France ; full of ambition, an envious emu- 
lator of every man's good parts, a secret and villainous 
contriver against me, his natural brother ; therefore, use 
thy discretion ; I had as lief 4 vhou didst break his neck as 
his finger; and thou wert best look to't ; for, if thou dost 
him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace him- 
self on thee, he will practise against thee by poison ; en- 
trap thee by some treacherous device ; and never leave 
thee, till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or 
other : for, I assure thee, and almost with tears 1 speak it, 
there is not one so young and so villainous this day living. 






Scene III.] as you like it. 11 

I speak but brotherly of him ; but, should I anatomize him 
to thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must look 
pale and wonder. 

Chas. I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he 
come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment : if ever he go 
alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more. And so, 
Heaven keep your worship. [Exit, u 

Oliv. Farewell, good Charles 1 JSow will I stir this 
gamester : I hope I shall see an end of him ; for my soul — 
yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's 
gentle ; never schooled, and yet learned ; full of noble de- 
vice of all sorts enchantingly beloved ; and, indeed, so much 
in the heart of the world, and especially of my own peo- 
ple, who best know him, that I am altogether misprised. But 
it shall not be so long ; this wrestler shall clear all : nothing 
remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go 
about. [Exit, R. 

Scene III.— A Lawn before the Duke's Palace. 

Enter Rosalind and Celia, r. 

Cel (r.) 1 pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be mer- 

Ros. (u c.) Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am 
mistress of ; and would you yet I were merrier ? Unless 
you could teach me to forget a banished father, you must 
not learn me how to remember any extraordinary plea- 
sure. 

Cel. (r. c.) Herein, I see, thou Iov'st me not with the 
full weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished 
father, had banished thy uncle, the Duke, my father, so thou 
hadst been still with me, I could have taught my love to 
take thy father for mine ; so wouldst thou, if the truth of 
thy love to me were so righteously tempered as mine is to 
thee. 

Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to 
rejoice in yours. 

Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, nor none 
is like to have ; and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his 
heir : for what he hath taken away from thy father per 
force, I will render thee again in affection ; by mine ho- 
nour, I will ; and, when I break that oath, let me turn 



12 AS YOU LIKE IT. [ACT L 

monster : therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, b« 
merry. 

Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports ; let 
me see ; what think you of falling in love ? 

Cel. Marry, I pry thee, do, to make sport withal; but 
love no man in good earnest ; nor no further in sport, nei- 
ther, that with safety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour 
come off again. 

Ros. "What shall be our sport, then ? 

Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife, Fortune, 
from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed 
equally. 

Ros. I would we could do so ; for her benefits are 
mightily misplaced : and the bountiful blind woman doth 
most mistake in her gifts to women. 

Cel. "lis true ; for those that she makes fair, she scarce 
makes honest ; and those that she makes honest, she makes 
very ill-favouredly. 

Ros. f Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to Na- 
ture's : Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the linea- 
ments of nature. 

Cel. No ! When Nature hath made a fair creature, 
may she not by Fortnne fall into the fire ? ( Touchstone sings 
without, l.J Though Nature hath given us wit to flout at 
Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this fool, to cut off the 
argument. [Ladies retire, r. 

Enter Touchstone, l. 

How now, wit ! whither wander you ? 

Touch, (l.) Mistress, you must come away to your fa- 
ther. 

Cel. Were you made the messenger ? 

Touch. No, by mine honour ; but I was bid to come for 
you. 

Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool ? 

Touch. Of a certain knight, that swore by his honour 
they were good pancakes, and swore by his honour the mus- 
tard was naught : now I'll stand to it, the pancakes were 
naught, and the mustard was good ; and yet was not the 
knight forsworn. 

Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of your 
knowledge ? 



Scene I.] as you like it, 13 

Ros. Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. 

Touch. Stand you both forth now : stroke your chins, 
and swear by your beards that I am a knave. 

Cd. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. 

Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were : but if 
you swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn : no 
more was this knight, swearing by his honour, for he never 
had any ; or, if he had, he had sworn it all away before he 
ever saw those pancakes, or that mustard. 

Cd. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau. 

Ros. With his mouth full of news. 

Cd. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their 
young. 

Ros. Then shall we be news-crammed. 

Cd. All the better ; we shall be the more marketable 

Enter Le Beau, l. 
Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau ; what's the news ? 

Le Beau. Fair Princess, you have lost much good sport. 

Cd. Sport ! of what colour ? 

Le Beau. What colour, madam ? how shall I answer 
you ? 

Ros As wit and fortune will. 

Touch. Or as the destinies decree. 

Cd. Well said ! that was laid on with a trowel. 

Le Beau. You amaze me ladies : I would have told you 
of good wrestling, which you have lost sight of. 

Ros, Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. 

Le Beau. (l. c.) I will tell you the beginning, ( Goes to c.) 
and, if it pleases your ladyships, you may see the end ; for 
the best is yet to do ; and here, where you are, they are 
coming to perform it. 

Cd. (c.) Well — the beginning that is dead and buried. 

Le Beau. There comes an old man and his three 
sons — 

Cd. I could match this beginning with an old tale. 

Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent growth 
and presence — 

Ros, With bills on their necks — " Be it known unto all 
men, by these presents" — 

Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, 
the Duke's wrestler ; whicfc Charles, in a moment, threw 



14 as you like it. [Act I 

him and broke three of his ribs, that there is little hope 
of life in him : so he served the second, and so the third. 
Yonder they lie ; the poor old man, their father, making 
such pitiful dole over them, that all the beholders take his 
part with weeping. 

Ros. Alas ! 

Touch, (l.) But what is the sport, Monsieur, that the 
ladies have lost ? 

Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of. 

Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day ; it is the 
first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport for 
ladies. 

Cel. Or I, I promise thee. 

Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken mu- 
sic in his sides ? Is there yet another dotes upon rib-break- 
ing ? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin ? 

Le Bean. You must, if you stay here ; for here is the 
place appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to 
perform it. 

Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming. Let us now stay 
and see it. [Flourish. — All relive, r. 

Enter Duke Frederick, Eustace, Louis, Orlando, Charles, 
and Attendants, l. 

Duke. Come on : since the youth will not be entreated, 
his own peril on his forwardness. 

Ros. Is yonder the man ? 

Le Beau. Even he, madam. 

Cel. Alas, he is too young : yet he looks successfully. 

Duke, (c.) How now, daughter and cousin ? are you 
crept hither to see the wrestling ? 

Ros. Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. 

Duke. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, 
there is such odds in the men. [Retires to a State Chutr, c. 
of background.'] In pity of the challenger's youth, I would 
fain dissuade him, but he will not be entreated : speak to 
him, ladies — see if you can move him. 

Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. 

Duke. Do so ; I'll not be by. [ Sits. 

Le Beau. Monsieur, the challenger, the princesses cali 
for you. 

O'-l. (l.) I attend them, with all respect and duty. 



Scene I.] as you like it. 15 

Ros. (Ros. and Cel. advance nearer Orl.) Young man, 
have you challenged Charles, the wrestler ? 

Orl, No, fair princess, he is the general challenger ; I 
cone but in, as others do, to try with him the strength of 
my youth. 

Cel. Young gentleman your spirits are too bold for 
your years. You have seen the cruel proof of this man's 
strength : if you saw yourself with your eyes, or knew 
yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure 
would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray 
.you, for your own sake, to embrace your own safety, and 
give over this attempt. 

Ros. Do, young sir ; your reputation shall not therefore 
be misprised : we will make it our suit to the Duke, that 
the wrestling might not go forward. 

Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard 
thoughts ; wherein, I confess me much guilty, to deny so 
fair and excellent ladies anything. But let your fair eyes 
and gentle wishes go with me to my trial ; wherin if I 
be foiled, there is but one shamed, that never was gracious : 
if killed, but one dead, that is willing to be so : I shall do 
my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me — the 
world no injury, for in it I have nothing ; only in the 
world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied, 
when I have made it empty. 

Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it were 
with you ! 

Cel. And mine, to eke out hers 

Ros. Fare you well ! Pray Heaven, I be deceived in 
you ! 

Cel. Your heart's desires be with you ! 

Chas. Come, where is this young gallant, that is so de- 
sirous to lie with his mother earth ? 

Orl. Ready, sir ; but his will hath in it a more modest 
working, 

Duke. You shall try but one fall. 

Chas. No, I warrant your grace : you shall not er.treat 
him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from 
a first. 

Orl. You mean to mock me after ; you should nor have 
mocked me before ; but come your ways. 

[Flourish of Trumpets and Drums while they wrestk 
Charles is thrown. 



16 AS YOU LIKE IT. [ACT L 

Duke. (Advandng, c.) No more, no more, 

Orl. (c.) Yes, I beseech your grace j I am not well 
breathed. 

Duke. How dost thou, Charles ? 

Touch, He cannot speak, my lord. 

Duke. Bear him away. — What is thy name, young 
man ? 

Orl. Orlando, my liege : the youngest son of Sir Row- 
land de Boys. 

Duke. I would thou hadst been son to some man else ! 
The world esteemed thy father honourable, 
But I did find him still mine enemy : 
I would thou hadst told me of another father ! 

[Rosalind and Celia stand, r. — Exit Duke, with his 
Train, l. 

Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, 
His youngest son ; — and would not change that calling, 
To be adopted heir to Fredrick. [Retires bade, u c. 

Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this ? 

Ros. My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, 
And all the world was of my father's mind : 
Had I before known this young man his son, 
I should have given tears unto entreaties. 
Ere he should thus have ventured. 

Cel. Gentle cousin, 
Let us go thank him, and encourage him ; 
My father's rough and envious disposition 
Sticks me at heart. — Sir, (Orlando advances.) you have 

well deserved : 
If you do keep your promises in love, 
But justly as you have exceeded promise, 
Your mistress shall be happy. 

Ros. Gentleman, ( Giving him a chain from her neck. 
Wear this for me ; one out of suits with fortune ; 
That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. 
Shall we go, coz ? 

Cel. Ay : — Fare you well, fair gentleman ! [Going 

Orl. Can I not say, I thank you ? My better parts 
Are all thrown down ; and that, which here stands up, 
[a but a quaintaine, a mere lifeless block. 

Ros. (Going, r.) He calls us back. (Stops.) My prida 
fell with my fortunes ; 



Scene III.] as you like it. 11 

I'll ask him what he would. (Returning ) Did you call, 

sir ? 
Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown 
More than your enemies. 

Gel. (r. s. e.) Will you go, coz ? 

Ros (r.) Have with you. — Fare you well ! 

[Exeunt Rosalind and Ceha,R. 
Orl ( Advances ,c.) What passion hangs these weights 
upon my tongue ! 
I cannot speak to her, yet she. urged conference. 
Oh, poor Orlando ! thou art overthrown ; 
Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee. 

Enter Le Beau, l. 

Le Beau, (h.) Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you 
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved 
High commendation, true applause, and love ; 
Yet, such is now the duke's condition, 
That he misconstrues all that you have done. 
The duke is humorous ; what he is, indeed, 
More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of. 

Orl. (r. c.) I thank yon, sir ; and pray you, tell me this : 
Which of the two was daughter of the duke, 
That here was at the wrestling ? 

Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by man- 
ners : 
But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter . 
The other is daughter to the banished duke, 
And here detained by her usurping uncle, 
To keep his daughter's company ; whose loves 
Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. 
But I can tell you, that, of late, this duke 
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece ; 
Grounded upon no other argument 
But that the people praise her for her virtues, 
And pity her for her good father's sake ; 
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady 
Will suddenly break forth. — Sir, fare you well ! 
Hereafter, in a better world than this, 
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. 

Orl. I rest much bounden to you ; fare you well ! 

[ Exit Le Beau, L, 



18 AS YOU LIKE IT. [ACT I 

Thus must I, from the smoke into the smother ; 

From tyrant duke, unto .a tyrant brother : 

But heavenly Rosalind I [Exit, l 



Scene IV. — An Apartment in the palace> 
Enter Celia and Rosalind k. 

Cel. (b.. c) Why, cousin ; why, Rosalind ; Cupid havo 
mercy ! — Not a word ? 

Ros. (l. c.) Not one, to throw at a dog. 

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away 
upon curs ; throw some of them at me. — But is all this for 
your father ? 

Ros. No, some of it is for my father's child. Oh, how 
full of briars is this working-day world ! 

Cel. They are but burrs, cousin, thrown upon tliee in hol- 
iday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very 
petticoats will catch them. 

Ros. I could shake them off my coat : these burrs are 
in my heart. 

Cel. Hem them away. 

Ros. I would try, if I could cry hem, and hate him. 

Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. 

Ros. Oh, they take the part of a better wrestler than 
myself. [Crosses, r 

Cel. (l.) Oh, a good wish upon you !— But turning these 
jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest ; is it pos- 
sible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong a 
liking for old Sir Rowland's youngest son ? 

Ros. The duke, my father, loved his father dearly. 

Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love his 
son dearly ? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, 
for my father hated hi3 father dearly • yet I hate not Or* 
lando. 

Ros. No, 'faith, hate him not, for my sake. 

Cel. Why should I ? doth he not deserve well ? 

Ros. Let me love him for that ; and do you love him, 
because I do. 

Cel. Ha 1 here comes the duke, with his eyes full of 
anger. [Crosses to Rosalind, 



Scene IY.] as you like it. 19 

Enter Duke Frederick, Eustace, Louis, and Gentle- 
men - , L. 

Duke, (c.) Mistress, despatch you with your safest 
haste, 
And get you from our court ! 

Ros. Me, uncle ? 

Duke. You, cousin : 
Within these ten days, if that thou be'st found 
So near our public court as twenty miles, 
Thou diest for it ! 

Ros (Advances and kneels.) I do beseech your grace, 
Let the knowledge of my fault bear with me ! 
If with myself I hold intelligence, 
Or have acquaintance with my own desires ; 
If that I do not dream, or be not frantic, 
(As I do trust I am notj then, dear uncle, 
Never, so much as in a thought unborn. 
Did I offend your nighti - 

Duke. Thus do n ! I iiu. » u i*a , 
If their purgation ii i consist in words, 
They are as innocent as grace itself : — 
Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not. 

Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor. 
Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. 

Duke. (l. c.) Thou art thy father's daughter, there's 
enough. 

Ros. (Rising.) So was I, when your highness took his 
dukedom : 
So was I, when your highness banished him. 
Treason is not inherited, my lord, — 
Or, if we did derive it from our friends, 
What's that to me ? my father was no traitor : 
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much, 
To think my poverty is treacherous. 

Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak ! 

[Advanoei to Duke, 

Duke. Ay, Celia ; we but stayed her for your sake ; 
Else had she with her father ranged along. 

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, — 
It was your pleasure, and your own remorse. 
If she be a traitor, 



20 AS YOU LIKE IT. [ACT 1, 

Why, so am I ; we still have slept together, 
Rose at au iDstant, learned, played, eat together : 
And, wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, 
Still we went coupled, and inseperable. 

Duke. She is too subtle for thee ; and her smoothness, 
Her very silence, and her patience, 
Speak to the people, and they pity her : 
Then open not thy lips ; 
Firm, and irrevocable, in my dooom 
Which I have passed upon her — she is banished. 

Cel. Pronounce that sentence, then, on me, my liege ; 
I cannot live out of her company. 

Duke. You are a fool ! — You, niece, provide yourself : 
If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, 
And in the greatness of my word, you die ! 

[Exeunt Duke, SfC, l. 

Cel. (r.) Oh, my poor Rosalind ! whither wilt thou go ? 
Wilt thou change fathers ? — I will give thee mine. 
I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. 

Ros. (r.) I have more cause. 

Cel. Thou hast not, cousin ; 
Pr'ythee, be cherrM : know'st thou not, the duke 
Hath banished me, h:> daughter ? 

Ros. That he hath not. 

Cel. No ! hath not ? Rosalind lacks then the love 
Which teacheth me, that thou and I are one. 
Shall we be sundered ? shall we part, sweet girl ? 
No 1 let my father seek another heir. 
Therefore devise with me, how we may fly, 
Whither go, and what to bear with us ; 
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, 
Say what canst, I'll go along with thee 1 

Ros. Why, whither shall we go ? [Crossing, \. 

Cel. To seek my uncle, in the forest of Arden. 

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, 
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far ! 
Beauty provoketh thieves, sooner than gold. 

Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire r 
The like do you ; so shall we pass along, 
And never stir assailants. 

Ros. Were it not better, 
Because that I am more than common tall. 



SCKXK I.] AS YfK LlivK IT. 21 

That i did stilt me all points like a man ? 

A. gallant curtle-axe by ray side, 

A boat-spear in my hand ; and (in my heart, 

Lie there what hidden woman's fear there willj 

We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, 

As many other mannish cowards have, 

That do outface it with their semblances. 

Cel. (h.) What shall I call thee, when thou art 
man ? 

Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page ; 
And, therefore, look you call me Ganymede. 
But what will you be called ? 

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state ; 
N»> longer Celia, but Aiiena. 

Ros. But, cousin, what if we essayed to steal 
The clownish fool out of your father's court? 
Would he not be a comfort to our travel ? 

Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me : 
Leave me alone to woo him : Let's away, [Crosses, n. 

A nd get our jewels and our wealth together ; 
Devise the fittest time, and safest way 
To hide iis from pursuit, that will be made 
After my flight. 

Ros. Now go we in content, 
To liberty, and not to banishment. [Exeunt, r. 

END OF ACT I. 



ACT II . 

Scene I. — Oliver 's House. 

Ento' Orlando, r. — Knocks at the Door, l. 

OH. Who's there ? 

Enter Adam, from Oliver's House. 

Adam, (l.) What ! my young master? — Oh, my gentle 
master I 
Oh, my sweet master ! Oh 1 you memory 
Of old Sir Rowland ! why, what make you here? 
Why are you virtuous ? Why do people love you 



22 as you uke rr. [ Act II. 

And wherefore are you gentle, strong, aud valiant ? 

Why would you be so fond to overcome 

The bony priser of the humorous duke ? 

Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. 

Know you not ; master, to some kind of men, 

Their graces serve them but as enemies ? 

No more do yours : your virtues, gentle master, 

Are santified and holy traitors to you. 

Oh, what a world is this, when, what is comely, 

Envenoms him that bears it ! 

Orl. (r, c.) Why, what's the matter ? 

Adam. Oh, unhappy youth ! 
Come not within these doors ; within this roof 
The enemy of all your graces lives : 

Your brother [ Comes out of the House. 

Hath heard your praises ; and, this night, he means 
To burn the lodging where you use to lie, 
And you withiu it ; if he fail of that, 
He will have other means to cut you off : 
I overheard him, and his practices. 
This is no place — this house is but a butchery ; 
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. 

Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouid'st thou have me go? 

Adam. (l. c.) No matter whither, so you come not 
here. 

Orl. Why, wou .d'st thou have me go and beg my food ! 
Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce 
A theivish living on the common road ? 
This I must do, or know not what to do : [Goes, u. 

Yet this I will not do, do how I can ; [Ruturns to c. 

1 rather will subject me to the malice 
Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother. 

Adam. But do not so ; I have five hundred crowns — 
The thrifty hire I saved under your father — 
Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse 
When service should in my old limbs lie lame 
Aud unregarded age in corners thrown : 
Take that ; and He that doth the ravens feed, 
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, 
Be comfort to my age ! Here is the gold : — 
All this I give you. Let me be your servant : 
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty ; 



Scene II.] as you like it* 23 

For, in ray youth, I never did apply 
Hot and rebellious liquors in ray blood ; 
Nor did not, with unbashful forehead, woo 
The means of weakness and debility ; 
Therefore, my age is as a lusty winter, 
Frosty, but kindly ; — let rae go with you ; 
I'll do the service of a younger man, 
In all your business and necessities. 

OH. Oh, good old man ! how well in thee appears 
Tl^e constant service of the antique world, 
When service sweat for duty, not for meed ! 
Thou art not for the fashion of these times, 
Where none will sweat but for promotion, 
And having that, do clonk their service up 
Even with the having : it is not so with thee. 
But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree, 
That cannot so much as a blossom yield, 
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry. 
But come thy ways, we'll go along together ; [Going, r. 
And, ere we have thy youthful wages spent, 
We'll light upon some settled, low content. [Exit, r 

Adam. Master, go on ; and I will follow thee, 
To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. 

[ Slowly following. 
From seventeen years till now, almost fourscore, 
Here lived I, but now live here no more. 
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek ; 
But at four score it is too late a week : 
Yet fortune cannot recompense me better, 
Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. [Exit, R. 

Scene 11* — The Forest of Arden, 

Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, Jaques, and two or i/iree Lords, 
like Foresters, l. 

Duke. (v. ) Now, ray co-mates, and brothers in exile, 
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet 
Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods 
More free from peril than the envious court ? 
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam — 
The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang 
And churlish chiding; of the winter's wind : 



24 AS YOU LIKE IT. [AcT II 

Which, when it bites, and blows upon my body, 

Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, 

This is no flattery : these are counsellors, 

That feelingly persuade me what I am. 

Sweet are the uses of adversity ; 

Which, like the toad, ugly, and venemous, 

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ! 

And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooka 

Sermons in stones, and good in everything. 

I would not change it. 

Amiens, (r.) Happy is your grace, 
That can translate the stubbornness of fortune 
Into so quiet, and so sweet a style. 

Duke. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ? 
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, 
Being native burghers of this desert city, 
Should, in their own confines, with forked heads, 
Have thier round haunches gored. 

Jaques. (l.) Indeed, my lord, 
I have often grieved at that ; 
And, in that kind, think you do more usurp 
Than doth your brother, that hath banished you. 
To-day, my Lord of Amiens and myself 
Did steal 

Behind an oak, whose antique root peeps out 
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood ; 
To which place a poor sequestered stag, 
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, 
Did come to languish ; and, indeed, my lord, 
The wretched animal heaved forth such groans, 
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat 
Almost to bursting ; and the big round tears 
Coursed one another down his innocent nose, 
in piteous chase ; and thus the hairy fool 
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brooks 
Augmenting it with tears. 

Duke. But what said you ? — 
Did you not moralize this spectacle ? 

Jaques. Oh, yes, into a thousand similies. 
First, for his weeping in the needless stream : 
Poor deer, quoth I, thou makest a testament 



Scene III.] as yott like it. 25 

As the wordlings do, giving thy sum of more 
To that which had too much — Then being alone, 
Left and abandoned of his velvet friends ; 
'Tis right, quoth I ; thus misery doth part 
The flux of company : — Anon, a careless herd, 
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him, 
And never stays to greet him ; — Ay, quoth I, 
Sweep on, you fat and greazy citizens ; 
'Tis just the fashion ; wherefore do you look 
JUpou that poor and broken bankrupt there? 
Thus pierced I through 
The body of the country, city, court, 
Yea, and of this our life ; for we, my lord, 
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse, 
To fright the animals, and to kill them up, 
In their assigned and native dwelling place. 

Duke. Show me the place ; 
I love to cope you in these sullen tits, . 
For then you're full of matter. 

Jaques. I'll bring you to it straight, [Exeunt, u 

Scene III. — A Room in the Palace. 
E'atti DuivE Feederick, Eustace, Louis, and Gentlemen, r. 

Duke, (c.) Can it be possible, that no man saw them ? 
It cannot be ; some villains of my court 
Are of consent and sufferance in this. 

lu Gent, (r.) I cannot hear of any that did see her. 
The ladies, her attendants of the chamber, 
Saw her a-bed ; and in the morning early, 
They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. 

%d Gent, (l.) My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so 
oft 
Yi.ur grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. 
ilesperia, the princess' gentlewoman, 
Confesses that she secretly o'erheard 
Your daughter, and her cousin, much commend 
The parts and graces of the wrestler 
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles ; 
And she believes, wherever they are gone, 
That youth is surely in their company. 



26 as you like ix. [Act II. 

Duke. Send to his brother : fetch that gallant hither ; 

[Exit 2d Gent., l. 
I'll make him find him — do this suddenly ; 
And let not search and inquisition quail, 
To bring again those foolish runaways. f Exeunt, r 

Scene IV. — The Forest, 
Enter Jaques, Amiens, and three other Lords, l. ; 

Jaques. (c.) More, more ; I pr'ythee, more. 

Amiens, (l.) It will make you melancholy, Jaques. 

Jaques. I thank it ; I do love it better than laughing. 

Amiens. Those that are in the extremity of either, are 
abominable fellows, and betray themselves to every modern 
censure, worse than drunkards. 

Jaques. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is 
emulation ; nor the musician's, which is fantastical ; nor the 
courtier's, which is proud ; nor the soldier's, which is ambiti- 
ous ; nor the lawyer's, which is politic ; nor the lady's, which 
is nice ; nor the lover's, which is all these ; but it is a melan- 
choly of mine own, compounded of many simples, extract- 
ed from many objects ; and, indeed, the sundry contempla- 
tion of my travels, in which my after rumination wraps 
me is a most humorous sadnesss. — Sing, I pr'ythee, sing. 

Amwns. My voice is rugged : I know I cannot please 
vou. 

Jaques. I do not desire you to please me, I desire you to 
sing. — I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel can 
suck eggs. Come, warble, warble. 

SONG.— Amiens. 

Under the greenwood tree, 

Who loves to lie with me, 

And tune his meny note 

Unto the sweet bird's throat, 
Come hither, come hither, come hither. 
Here shall ye see 
No enemy, 

But winter and rough weather. 

Who doth ambition shun, 

And loves to live i' the sun, 

Seeking the food he eats, 

And pleased with what he gets, 
Come hither come hither, come hithe*. 



Scene V.] as you like it. 27 

Here shall he see 
No enemy, 
But winter and rough weatner. 

Jaques. I'll go sleep if I can ; if I cannot, I'll rail against 
all the first born of Egypt. [Exit, i. 

Amiens. And we'll go seek the Duke ; his banquet is pre- 
pared. [Exeunt , r 

Scene Y. — The Forest of Arden. 

Enter Rosalind, in Boy's Clothes, for Ganymede., Cklia, 

dressed like a Shepherdess, and Touchstone, l. u. e. 

Ros (r. c.) Oh, Jupiter ! how weary are my spirits ! 

7 ouch, (c.) I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not 
weary. 

Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's ap- 
\mn\, and cry like a woman : but I mst comfort the weaker 
ressel, ns doblet and hose ought to show itself courageous 
t o petticoat ; therefore, courage, good Aliena. 

Cel. (l.) I pray you, bear with me ; I can go no further. 

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you, ihan 
bear you ; yet I should bear no cross, If I did bear \o .i ; 
for I th'nk you have no money in your purse. 

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden. 

Touch. Ay, now I am in Arden : the more fool I ; when 
I was at home, I was in a better place ; but travellers in ist 
be content. 

Ros. Ay, to be so, good Touchstone.-^Look you, who 
vomes here : a young man and an old in solemn talk. 

[All three retire up the l. side of the Stage. 

Enter Corin and Sylvius, r. 

Corin. (l. c.J That is the way to make her scorn vou 
still. 

Syl. (r. g.) Oh, Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love 
her. 

Corin. I partly guess ; for I have loved ere now. 

Sylv. No, Corin, being old, thou can'st not guess ; 
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover 
As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow ; 



28 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Ad II 

But if thy life were ever like to mine, 
(As sure I think did never love so,) 
How many actions most ridiculous 
Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy ? 

Corin. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. 

Sylv. Oh, thou didst then never love so heartily \ 
If thou reraember'st not the slightest folly 
That ever love did make thee run into, 
Thou hast not loved : 
Or if thou hast not talked as I do now, 
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, 
Thou hast not loved : 
Or if thou hast not broke from company, 
Abruptly as my passion now makes me, 
Thou hast not loved. — Oh, Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe ! 

[JExeunt Corin and Sylvius, a 

Ros. (l.) Alas, poor shepherd ! searching of thy wound, 
I have by hard adventure found mine own 

[All three advance. 

Touch, (c.) And I mine : I remember, when I was in 
love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him take 
that for coming o'nights to Jane Smile ; and I remember the 
kissing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty 
chopped hands had milked ; and I remember the wooing of 
a peascod instead of her, from whom I took two cods and 
giving them her again, said with weeping tears, " Wear 
these for my sake." We, that are true lovers, run into 
strange capers ; but as all is mortal in nature so is all na- 
ture, so all is nature in love mortal in folly. 

Ros. (l. c.) Thou speak'st wiser than thou art 'ware of 

Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be aware of mine own wit, 
'till I break my shins against it. 

Cel. (r. c.) I pray you, one of you question yon man, 
if he for gold will give us any food ; 
I faint almost to death. 

Touch. Holloa ! you clown ! 

Ros. Peace, fool ! he's not thy kinsman 

Enter Corin, r. 

Corin. (r. ) Who calls ? 

Touch (l. ) Your betters, sir. 



Scene V.] as you like it. 29 

Corin. Else they are very wretched. 

Eos. Peace, I say : Good even to yon, friend. 

Cor And to yon, gentle sir, and to you all. 

[ Touchstone retires to Celia, r 

Eos. (c.j I pr'ythee, shepherd, if that love, or gold, 
CUn in this desert place buy entertainment, 
Bring ws where we may rest ourselves, and feed : 
II re's a young maid, with travel much oppressed, 
And faints for succour. 
, Corin. (r.) Fair sir, I pity her, 
And wish for her sake more than for mine own, 
My fortune's were more able to relieve her : 
But I am shepherd to another man, 
And do not sheer the fleeces that I gaze; 
My master is of churlish diposition, 
And little recks to find the way to heaven 
By doing deeds of hospitality : 
Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed, 
Are now on sale, and at our sheep-cote now, 
By reason of his absence, there is nothing 
That you will feed on ; but what is, come see, 
And in my voice most welcome shall you be. 
; Ros. What is he, that shall buy his flock and pasture ? 

Corin. That young swain, that you saw here but ere- 
while, 
That little cares for buying anything. 

Ros, I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, 
Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, 
And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. 

Corin. Assuredly the thing is to be sold : 
Go with me ; if you like upon report, 
The soil, the profit, and this kind of life, 
I will your very faithful feeder be, 
A.nd buy it with your gold right suddenly. [JExeunt, u 

Scene VI. — Another part of the Forest. 

Enter Orlando and Adam, l. 

Adam, (l.) Dear master, I can go no further : oh, I du 
for food ! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. 
Farewell, kind master. 

Orl. Why how now, Adam ! no greater heart in thee ? 
Live a little : comfort a little ; cheer thvself a little : if 



30 AS YOU LIKE IT. [A.CT II. 

this uncouth forest yield anything savage, I will either be 
food for it, or bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is 
nearer death than any powers. For my sake be comfortable ; 
hold death awhile at the arm's end : I will be here with thee 
presently ; and if I bring thee not something to eat, I'll give 
thee leave to die : bnt if thou diest before I come, thou art 
a mocker of my labour. Well said 1 thou look'st cheerily ; 
and I'll be with thee quickly. Yet thou liest in the bleak 
air : come, I will bear thee to some shelter ; (Lifting him up.) 
and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live 
anything in this desert. Cheerily, good Adam ! 

[Bearing him away, l., scene changes. 

Scene VII. — Another jpart of the Forest. — A Tablet set out. 

Eenter Duke Senior, Amiens, and Lord, b. 

Duke, (c.) I think he is transformed into a beast, 
For I can no where find him like a man. 

1st Lord, (r.) My lord, he is but even now gone hence ; 
Here was he merry hearing of a song. 

Duke. If he, compact of jars, grow musical, 
We shall have shortly discord in the spheres : — 
Go, seek him : tell him I would speak with him. 

Enter Jaques, l. 

1st Lord. He saves my labour by his own approach. 

Duke. Why, how now, monsieur ! what a life is this, 
That your poor friends must woo your company ? 
What, you look merrily ! 

Jaques. (l.) A fool ! — I met a fool i' the forest, 
A motley fool — a miserable world ! — 
As I do live by food, I met a fool : 
Who laid him down and basked him in the sun, 
And railed on lady Fortune in good terms, 
In good set terms — and yet a motley fool. 
"Good-morrow, fool," quoth I : "No, sir," quoth he, 
(t Call me not fool, till Heaven hath sent me fortune : n 
And then he drew a dial from his poke, * 

And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, 
Says, very wisely, " It is ten o'clock : 
Thus may we see," quoth he " how the world wages : 



Scene VII.] as you like it, 81 

'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine ; 
And after one hour more, 'twili be eleven ; 
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe, and ripe, 
And then, from hour to hour, we rot, and rot, 
And thereby hangs a tale." When I did hear 
The motley fool thus moral on the time, 
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, 
That fools should be so deep contemplative ; 
And I did laugh, sans intermission, 
An Lour by his dial. — Oh, noble fool ! 
"A worthy fool ! Motley's the only wear. 

[All retire to the Table 

Enter Orlando, with his Sword draion, l. 

Orl. (l.) Forbear, and eat no more ! 

Jaques. Why, I have eat none yet. 

Orl. Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. 

Jaques. Of what kind should this cock come of? 

Duke. (Coming forward.) Art thou thus boldencd, mao, 
by thy distress? 
Or else a rude despiser of good manners, 
That in civility thou seem'st so empty ? 

Orl. You touched my vein at first ; the thorny point 
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show 
Of smooth civility ; yet am I inland bred, 
And know some nurture : but forbear, I say I 
He dies that touches any of this fruit, 
Till I and my affairs are answered. 

Duke. (r. c.) What would you have ? Your gentleness 
shall force, 
More than your force move us to gentleness. 

Orl. (l. c.) I almost die for food, and let me have it. 

Duke. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. 

Orl. Speak you so gentle ? Pardon me, I pray you ; 
i thought that all things had been savage here ; 
A ud therefore put I on the countenance 
Of stern commandment : but whate'er you are, 
That in this desert inaccessible, 
Under the shade of melancholy boughs, 
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time : 
If ever you have looked on better days : 
If ever been where bells have kuolled to church : 



32 AS YOU LIKE It, [ACT II. 

If ever sat at any good man's feast ; 
If ever from your eye-lids wiped a tear, 
And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied ; 
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be : 
In the which hope, I blush, and hide my sword. 

DiUce True is it, that we have seen better days, 
A.nd have with holy bell been knolled to church ; 
And sat at good men's feasts ; and wiped our eyes 
Of drops that sacred pity had engendered : 
And therefore sit you down in gentleness, 
And take upon command what help we have, 
That to your wanting may be ministered. 

OH. Then forbear your food a little while, 
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn, 
And give it food There is an old poor man, 
Who after me hath many a weary step 
Limped in pure love ; till he be first sufficed — 
Oppressed with two weak evils, age and hunger — 
I will not touch a bit. 

Duke. Go find him out, 
And we will nothing waste till you return. 

OH. I thank ye ; and be blessed for your gone comfort! 

[Exit. L, 

Duke, (c.) Thou see'st, we are not all alone unhappy j 
This wide and universal theatre 
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene 
Wherein we play in. 

Jaques. (l. c.) All the world's a stage, 
And all the men and women merely players : 
They have their exits and their entrances ; 
And one man in his time plays many parts, 
His acts being seven ages At first, the infant, 
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms ; 
And then, the whining school-boy, with his satchel, 
And shining morning face, creeping like snail 
Unwillingly to school ; And then, the lover.; 
Sighing like furnace, with woeful ballad 
Made to his mistress' eye-brow : Then, a soldier ; 
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, 
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, 
Seeking the bubble reputation 
Even in the cannon's mouth : And then, the justice j 



Scene VIL] as you like it. S3 

In fair round belly, with good capon lined, 
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, 
Full of wise saws and modern instances, 
And so he plays his part : The sixth age shifts 
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon ; 
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; 
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide 
For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, 
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes 
And whistles in his sound : Last scene of all, 
That ends this strange eventful history, 
Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; 
*Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything 

[All retire to Table. 

Enter Orlando and Adam, l. 

Duke. Welcome : set down your venerable burden, 
And let him feed. 

OH. I thank you most for him. 

Adam. So had you need ; 
t scarce can speak to thank you for myself. 

Duke. Welcome, fall to ; I will not trouble you, 
As yet to question you about your fortunes : — 
Giee us some music ; and, good cousin, sing. 

[Amiens advances, 0. 

SONG. — Amiens. 

Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 
Thou art not so unkind 

As man's ingratitude ; 
Thy tooth is not so keen, 
Because thou art not seen, 

Although thy breath be rude. 

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, 
That dost not bite so nigh 

As benefits forgot : 
Though thou the waters warp, 
Thy sting is not so sharp 

As friend remembered not. 

Duke. (Comes forward.) If that you were the good Si* 
Rowland's son — 
As you have whispered faithfully you were j 
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness, 
Most truly limbed, and living in your face— 



S4 AS YOU LIKE IT. [ACT III. 

Be truly welcome hither ; I am the duke, 

That loved your father : the residue of your fortune 

Go to my cave and tell me. — Good old man, 

Thou art right welcome, as thy master is : — 

Support him by the arm. — Give me your hand, 

And let me all your fortunes understand. Exeunt, u 

END OF ACT II. 



ACT III. 

Scene I. — The Palace. 

Enter Duke Frederick, Eustace, Louis, Oliver, and 
Gentlemen, l. 

Duke, (r.) Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be ; 
But were I not the better part made mercy, 
J should not seek an absent argument 
Of my revenge, thou present : But look to it ; 
F iii-j out thy brother, whereso'er he is ; 
Bring him, dead or living, 

Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more 
To seek a living in our territory. 
Thy hinds, and all things that thou dost call thine, 
Worth seizure, do we seize into our hands ; 
Till thou canst quit thee, by thy brother's mouth, 
Of what we think against thee. 

Oli. (l.) Oh, that your highness knew my heart m 
this ! 
I never loved my brother in my life. 

Duke More villain thou ! Well, push him out of doors; 
And let my officers of such a nature 
Make an extent upon his house and lands : 
Do this expediently, and turn him going. 

[Ezeunf Duke, r., the others, l, 

Scene II. — The Forest. 

Enter Orlando, with a paper, l. u. e. 

Orl. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love ; 
And thou, thrice-renowned queen of night, survey 



Scene II.] as you like m S5 

With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above. 

Thy huntress' name, that my full life doth sway. 

Oh, Rosalind ! these trees shall be my books, 

And on their barks my thoughts I'll character ; 

That every eye, which in this forest looks, 

Shall see thy virtue witnessed everywhere. 

Run, run, Orlando ; carve on every tree, 

The fair, the chaste, the unexpressive she. v JBzit, r. 

Enter Corin and Touchstone, r. 

. Covin, (-r.) And how like you this shepherd's life, Mas- 
ter Touchstone ? 

Touch, (l. g.) Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is 
a good life ; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is 
naught. In respect that it is solitary, I .like it very well ; 
but in respect that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now 
in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well ; but in 
respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a spare 
life, look yon, it fits my humonr well ; but as there is no 
more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach. Hast 
any philosophy in thee, shepherd ? 

Corin. No more, but that I know, the more one sickens, 
the worse at ease he is ; and that he that wants money, 
means, and content, is without three good friends : — That 
the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn : That good 
pasture makes fat sheep ; and that a great cause of the 
night is the lack of the sun : That he that hath learned no 
wit by nature nor art, may complain of good breediug,"oi' 
comes of a very dull kindred. 

Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast 
ever in court, shepherd ? 

Corin. No, truly. 

Touch. Then thou art damned. 

Conn. Nay, I hope — 

Touch. Truly, thou art damned ; like an ill-roasted egg 
;?)! on one side. 

Corin. For not being at court ? Your reason. 

Touch. Why if thou never wast at court, thou nevei 
saw'st good manners : if thou never saw'st good man- 
ners, then i hy manners must be wicked ; and wickedness 
is sin, and sin is damnation j Thou art in a parlous state, 
slienherd 



36 AS YOTT LIKE IT. [Ad III. 

Corin. Not a whit, Touchstone : I am a true labourer ; 
I earn that I eat, get that I wear ; owe no man hate, envy 
no man's happiness ; glad of other men's good, content 
with my harm ; and the greatest of my pride is, to see my 
ewes graze, and nrj lambs suck. 

Touch. That is another simple sin in you ; to bring the 
ewes and rams together, and to offer to get your living by 
the copulation of cattle ; to be bawd to a bell-weather ; 
and to betray a she lamb of a twelvemonth to a crooked- 
pated, old, cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. 
If thou beest not damned for this, the devil himself will 
have no shepherds ; I cannot see how else thou should'st 
'scape. 

Corin. Here comes young Mr. Ganymede, my new mis- 
tress's brother. ( They retire, l. 

Enter Rosalind, l. u. e., taking a Paper from a Tree, 

and reading. 

Ros. "From the east to the western Inde, 
No jewel is like Rosalind. 

( Touchstone advances, r. 
Her worth, being mounted on the wind, 
Through all the woild bears Rosalind. 
All the pictures, fairest limned, 
Are but black to Rosalind. 
Let no face be kept in mind, 
But the face of Rosalind. 
Touch. (Crosses, l.) I'll rhyme you so eight years to- 
gether, dinners, and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted : 
it is the right butter-woman's rate to market. 
Ros. (r.) Out, fool ! 
Touch. For a taste : — 

If a hart do lack a hind, 

Let him seek out Rosalind 

If the cat will after kind, 

So, be sure, will Rosalind. 

Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, 

Such a nut is Rosalind. 

They that reap, must sheaf and bind ; 

Then to cart with Rosalind. 

TLis is the very false gallop of verses : Why do you infect 
yourself with them ? 



Scene II.] as you like it. 37 

Ros. Peace, you dull fool ; I found them on a tree 
Touch. Truly, the tir^e yields bad fruit. [Retires, r. 

Enter Celia, with a writing, r. 

Ros. Peace ! 
Here comes my sister, reading I stand aside ! [Retires, r. 
Cel. Why should this a desert be ? 

For it is unpeopled ? No ; 
Tongues I'll hang on every tree, 

That shall civil sayings show. 
Some, how brief the life of man 

Runs his erring pilgrimage ; 
That the stretching of a span 

Buckles in his sum of age. 
Some, of violated vows 

'Twixt the souls of friend and friend ; 
But upon the fairest boughs, 

Or at every sentence end, 
Will I Rosalinda write ; 

Teaching all that read, to know 
This quintessence of every sprite 

Heaven would in a little show. 
Therefore Heaven nature charged, 

That one body should be filled 
With all graces wide enlarged : 

Nature presently distilled 
Helen's cheek, but not her heart ; 

Cleopatra's majesty ; 
Atalanta's better part ; 

Sad Lucretia's modesty. 
Thus Rosalind, of many parts 

By heavenly synod was devised : 

[Rosalind advances behind Celia. 
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts, 

To have the touches dearest prized, 
Heaven would that she these gifts should have, 

And I to live and die her slave. 

Ros. Oh, most gentle Jupiter ! — what tedious homily of 
love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never 
cried, " Have patience, good people !" 

Cel. How now ! back friends 1 Shepherd, go off a lit- 
tle ;— Go with him, sirrah. 






38 as you like it. [Act III. 

Touch. Come, shepherd, let us make an hounorable re- 
treat ; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip 
and scrippage. [Exeunt Corin and Touchstone,, l 

Cel. (l. c.) Didst thou hear these verses ? 

Ros. (r. c.) Oh, yes, I heard them all, and more, too ; 
for some of them had in them more feet than the verses 
would bear. 

(Mi But didst thou hear, without wondering, how thy 
name should be hanged and carved upon these trees ? 

Ros. It was seven of the nine days out of wonder, be- 
fore you came ; for look here, what I found on a palm- 
tree. 

Cel. Trow you hath done this ? 

Ros. Is it a man? 

Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck : 
change you colour ? 

Ros. I pr'ythee, who ? 

Cel. lord, lord ! it is a hard matter for friends to 
meet ; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, 
and so encounter. 

Roi. Nay, who is it ? Nay, I pr'ythee now, with most 
petitionary vehemence, tell me who is it ? 

Cel. Oh, wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful 
wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of 
all whooping ! 

Ros. Good my complexion ! dost thou think, though I 
am caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose m 
my disposition ? What manner of man ? Is his head worth 
a hat, or chin worth a beard ? 

Cel. Nay, he hath but little beard. 

Ros. Why, God will send more if the man will be 
thankful : let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou de- 
lay me not the knowledge of his chin. 

Cel. It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's 
heels, and your heart, both in an instant. 

Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking. 

Cel. I'faith, coz, 'tis he. 

Ros. Orlando ? 

Cel. Orlando. 

R os. Alas the day ! what shall I do with my doublet 
**ad hose? What did he, when thou saw'st him ? What 
said he ? How looked he ? Wherein went he ? What 



Scene II. J as Yot; li&e it. 89 

makes lie here ? Did he ask for me ? Where remains 
he ? How parted he with thee ? and when shalt thou see 
him again ? Answer me in one word. 

Cel. Thou must borrow me Garagantau's mouth first : 
'tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To 
say, ay, and no, to these particulars, is more than to answer 
in a catechism. 

Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in 
man's apparel ? Looks he as freshly as he did the day 
he wrestled ? 

a Cel. It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the pro- 
positions of a lover : — but take a taste of my finding him, 
and relish it with good observance. I found him under 
an oak tree, like a dropped acorn. 

Ros. It may well be called Jove's tree when it drops 
forth such fruit. 

Cel. There lay he, streched along, like a wounded 
knight. He was furnished like a hunter. 

Ros. Oh, ominous ! he comes to kill my heart. 

Cel. I would sing my song without a burden : thou 
bring'st me out of tune. 

Ros. Do you not know I am a woman ? when I think, 
I must speak. Sweet, say on 

Enter Jaques and Orlando, l. 

CeL You bring me out : — Soft, comes he not here ? 

Ros. 'Tis he : slink by and note him. 

[ Celia and Rosalind retire haclc on k 

Jaques. (r. c.) I thank you for your company ; but, 
good faith, I had as lief have been my self alone. 

OH. (l. c.) And so had I ; but yet, for fashion sake, I 
thank you too for your society. 

Jaques. Heaven be with you ! let's meet as little as 
we can. 

Orl. I do desire we may be better strangers. 

Jaques. I pray you, mar no more trees, with writing 
love-songs on their barks. 

Orl. I pray you, mar no more cf my verses, with read- 
ing them ill-favouredly. 

Jaques. Rosalind is your love's name ? 

Orl. Yes, just. 

Jaques. I do not like he? name. 



40 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Ad III. 

Orl. There was no thought of pleasing you, when she 
was christened. 

Jaques. What stature is she of ? 

Orl. Just as high as my heart. 

Jaques. You are full of pretty answers : Have you not- 
been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them 
oat of rings ? — Will you sit down with me ? and we two 
will rail against onr mistresses, the world, and all our mi- 
sery. 

Orl. I will chide no breather in the world but myself, 
against whom I know most faults. 

Jaques. The worst fault you have is, to be in love. 

Orl. 'Tis a fault I would not change for your best vir- 
tue. I am weary of you. 

Jaques. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool, wnen I 
found you. 

Orl. He is drowned in the brook ; look but in, and you 
shall see him. 

Jaques. There I shall see mine own figure. 

Orl. Which I take to be either a fool or a cypher. 

Jaques. I'll tarry no longer with you : farewell, good 
Signior Love ! [Exit r. 

Orl. I'm glad of your departure ; adieu, good Mon- 
sieur Melancholy ! [Rosalind comes forwad. 

Ros. I will speak to him like a saucy lacquey, and un- 
der that habit play the knave with him. (r. c. ) Do you 
hear, forester ? 

Orl. (l. c.) Yery well ; what would you ? 

Ros. I pray you, what is't o'clock ? 

Orl, You should ask me, what time o'day : ther's no 
clock in the forest. 

Ros. Then there is no true lover in the forest ; else 
sighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would de- 
tect the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock. 

Orl. And why not the swift foot of time ? had not that 
been as proper ? 

Ros. By no means, sir : Time travels in divers paces 
with divers persons ; I'll tell you who time ambles withal, 
who time trots withal, who time gallops withal and who 
he stands sttfl withal.. 

Orl. I pr'ythee whom doth he trot withal ? 

R-os. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between 



Scene II.] as rou like it. 41 

the contract of her marriage and the day it is solemnized. 
If the interim be but a se'nnight, time's pace is so hard, 
that it seems the length of seven years. 

Oil. Who ambles time withal ? 

Ros. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that 
hath not the gout ; for the one sleeps easily because he 
cannot study, and the other lives merrily because he feels no 
pain. These time ambles withal. 

Orl. Whom doth he gallop withal ? 

Ros. With a thief to the gallows ; for, though he go as 
softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there. 

Orl. Who stays it withal ? 

Ros. With lawyers in the vacation ; for they sleep be- 
tween term and term, and then they perceive not how time 
moves. [Celia advances. 

Orl. Where dwell you, pretty youth ? 

Ros. With this shepherdess, my sister ; here, in the skirts 
of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat. 

Orl, Your accent is something finer than you could pur- 
chase in so removed a dwelling. 

Ros. I have been told so of many ; but, indeed, an old 
religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was, in 
his youth, an inland man ; one that knew courtship too 
well, for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many 
lectures against it ; and I thank heaven I am not a woman 
to be touched with so many giddy offences, as he hath gen- 
erally taxed their whole sex withal. 

Orl. Can you remember any of the principal evils that 
he laid to the charge of women ? 

Ros. They were none principal ; they were all like one 
another, as halfpence are : every one fault seeming mon- 
strous, till his fellow fault came to match it. 

Orl. I pr'ythee, recount some of them. 

Ros. No ; I will not cast away my physic but on those 
that are sick. [Celia retires upt/ie Stage.'] There is a man 
haunts the forest that abuses our young plants with carv- 
ing Rosalind on their barks ; hangs odes upon hawthorns, 
and elegies on brambles ; all, forsooth, deifying the name 
of Rosalind. If I could meet that fancy-monger, I would 
give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the quo- 
tidian of love upon him. 

Orl. I am he that is so love-shaked ; I pray you, tell 
me your remedy. 



42 AS YOU LIKE IT. [AcT III. 

Ros. There is none of my uncle's marks upon you : he 
taught me how to know a man in love ; in which cage of 
rushes, I am sure, you are not prisoner. 

Orl. What were his marks ? 

Ros. A lean cheek ; which you have not : a blue eye, 
and sunken ; which you have not : an unquestionable spi- 
rit ; which you have not : a beard neglected ; which you 
have not : — but I pardon you for that : for, simply, your 
having no beard is a younger brother's revenue. — Then 
your hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unbanded, 
your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and everything 
about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But you 
are no such man : you rather point device in your ac- 
coutrements — as loving yourself than seeming the lover of 
any other. 

Orl. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I 
love ! 

Ros. Me believe it ! you ma/ as soon make her that 
you love believe it ; which, I warrant, she is apter to do 
than to confess she does ; this is one of the points in the 
which women still give the lie to their consciences.— But, 
in good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the trees 
wherein Rosalind is so admired ? 

Orl. I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rom-- 
/.ind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. 

Ros. But are you so much in love as your rhynifs 
speak ? 

OrL Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much 

Ros. Love is merely a madness ; and, I tell you, de- 
serves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do : and 
the reason why they are not so punished and cured is, that 
the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers are in love too ; 
yet I profess curing it by counsel. 

Orl. Did you ever cure any so ? 

Ros. Yes, one ; and in this manner. He was to ima- 
gine me his love, his mistress, and I set him every day to 
woo me : At which time would I, being but a inoonish 
youth, grieve, be effeminate — changeable — longing, and 
liking ; proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full 
of tears — full of smiles ; for every passion, something, and 
for no passion, truly, anything, as boys and women are, 
for the most part, cattle of this colour : would now like 



Scene II ] as you like it. 43 

him, now loathe him ; then entertain him, then forswear 
him ; now weep for him, then spit at him ; that I drave 
my suitor from his mad humour of love, to a living hu- 
mour of madness ; which was, to forswear the full stream 
of the world, and to live in a nook, merely romantic . And 
thus I cured him ; and this way will I take upon me to 
wash your liver as clear as a sound sheep's heart, that 
there shall not be one spot of love in't. 

Od. I would not be cured, youth. 

Ros. I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosa- 
lind, and come every day to my cot and woo me. 

Orl. Now, by the faith of my love, I will ! Tell me 
•where it is. 

Ros. Go with me to it, and I will show it you ; and, by 
the way, you shall tell me where in the forest you live. — 
Will you go ? [Celia advances. 

Orl. With all my heart, goorl youth. 

Ros. Nay, nay, you mas- c,<li mjj Rosalind. Come, sis- 
ter, will you go ? [Exeunt, r. 
Enter T-jc. is ton a and Audrey, r. 

Touch, (h.) Co .is apace, good Audrey ; I will fetch up 
your goats, Audrey : And how, Audrey ? Am I the man 
yet ? doth my simple feature content you ? 

And. (n. c.) Your features ? Lord warrant us I what 
features ? 

Touch. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most 
capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths. 
When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's 
good wit seconded with the forward child, understanding, 
it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a 
little room : Truly, I would the gods had made thee poet- 
ical ! 

And, I do not know what poetical is : Is it honest in 
deed and word ? Is it a true thing ? 

Touch. No, truly ; for the truest poetry is the most 
feigning ; and lovers are given to poetry ; and, what they 
swear in poetry, may be said, as lovers, they do feign. 

And. And do you wish, then, that the gods had made 
me poetical ? 

Touch, I do, truly ; for thou swear'st to me thou art 
honest ; now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some hope 
that thou did'st feign. 



44 as you like it. [Act III 

Aud. Would 3 ou not have me honest ? 

Touch No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured : for 
honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to su- 
gar. 

And. Well, I am not fair ; and, therefore, I pray the 
gods, make me honest I 

Touch. Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut, 
were to put good meat into an unclean dish. 

Aud. I am not a slut, though, I thank the gods, I am 
foul. 

Touch. Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness ! 
sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may be, 
I will marry thee ; and, to that end, I have been with 
Sir Oliver Mar-text, the vicar of the next village, who hath 
promised to meet me in this place of the forest, and to 
couple us. 

And. Well, the gods give us joy ! 

[ Capers clumsily up the Stage. 

Touch. Amen. A man may, if lie were of a fearful 
heart, stagger in this attempt : for her^we have no temple 
but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts But what, 
though ? Courage ! as horns are odious, they are neces- 
sary. It is said many a man knows no end of his goods : 
right ; many a man has good horns, and knows no end of 
them. Well, that is the dowry of his wife ; 'tis none of 
his own getting. Horns ? Even so : — Poor men alone ? 
— No, no ; the noblest deer has them as huge as the ras- 
cal. Is the single man therefore blessed ? No ; as a 
walled town is worthier than a village, so is the forehead 
of a married man more honourable than the bare brow of 
a bachelor. 

Come, sweet Audrey ; 
We oust be married, or we must live in bawdry 

[Exeunt, l 

END OF ACT HI. 



Scene L] as you like it. 45 

ACT IV 

Scene I. — The Forest. 
Enter Rosalind and Celia, r. 

Ros. (l. c.) Never talk to me, I will weep. 

Cel (r. c.J Do, 1 pr'ythee ; but yet have the grace to 
consider that tears do not become a man. 

Ros. But have I not cause to weep? 

Cel As good cause as one would desire ; therefore 
weep. 

Ros But why did he swear he would come this morn- 
ing, and comes not ? 

Cel. Nay, certainly, there is no truth iu him. 

Ros. Not true in love ! 

Cel. Yes, when he is in ; but I think he is not in. 

Ros You have heard him swear downright he was 

Cel. Was is not is : besides, the oath of a lover is no 
stronger than the word of a tapster ; they are both the 
conlirmers of false reckonings. He attends here, in the 
forest, upon the duke, your father. 

Ros. 1 met the duke yesterday, and had much question 
with him ; he asked me of what parentage I was ; I told 
him of as good as he : so he laughed, and let me go. 
But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a man as 
Orlando ? 

Cel. Oh, that's a brave man ! he writes brave verses, 
speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them 
bravely ; but all's brave that youth mounts and folly 
guides : — Who comes here ? 

Enter Corin, l. 

Corin. (l.) Mistress and master, you have oft inquired 
After the shepherd that complained of love ; 
Whom you saw sitting by me on the turf, 
Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess 
That was his mistress. 

CW.Well, and what of him ? 

Corin, If you will see a pageant truly played 
Between the pale complexion of true love 
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, 



46 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Ad IV. 

Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you, 
If you will mark it. 

Ros. (cJOh, come, let us remove ; 
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love : — 
Bring us but to this sight, and you shall say 
I'll prove a busy actor in their play. [JEzeunt l 

Scene II. — Another part of the Forest 

Enter Phgebe and Sylvius, r. 

Sylv. (r.) Sweet Phoebe, do not scorn me: — do not, 
Phoebe : 
Say that you love me not ; but say not so 
In bitterness : The common executioner, 
Whose heart the accustomed sight of death makes hard, 
Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck, 
But first begs pardon : Will yon sterner be 
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops ? 

Enter Rosalind, Celia, and Corin, l. u. e. 

Phtph°. I would not be thy executioner ; 
1 tiy tfwe„ for I would not injure thee. 
Thou tpp'st me there is murder in mine eyes : 
Now df» I frown on thee with all my heart ; 
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee. 

Sylv'. Oh, dear Phoebe, 
If ever, as that ever may be near, 
Yuu meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, 
Then shall you know the wonnds, invisible, 
That lov s keen arrows make. 

Phaibe. But, till that time, 
Come not thou near me : aud when that time cornea. 
Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not ; 
As, till that time, I shall not pity thee. 

Ros. (Advancing to c.) And why, I pray you ? — Who 
might be your mother, 
That you insult, exult, and all at once, 
Over the wretched ? What though you have beauty, 
(As, by my faith, I see no more in you, 
Than, without candle, may go dark to bed J 
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless ? 
Why, what means this ? Why do yon look on me ? 



Scene II.] as yol- like rr. 41 

1 see no more in you than in the ordinary 

Of nature's sale-work : — Odd's my little life 

I think she means to tangle mine eyes, too : — 

No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it ; 

'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, 

Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream, 

That can entame my spirits to your worship. 

You foolish shepherd ! 'wherefore do you follow her ? 

You are a thousand times a properer man, 

Than she a woman : 'Tis such fools as you 

That make the world full of ill-favoured children: 

-Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her : 

But, mistress, know yourself ; down on your knees, 

And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's love : 

For I must tell you friendly in you ear, 

Sell when you can ; you are not for all markets ; 

Cry the man mercy ; love him ; take his offer : 

So, take her to thee, shepherd : — fare you well ! 

Phoebe. Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year toge* 
ther ; 
I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo. 

Ros. I pray you, do not fall in love with me, 
For I am falser than vows made in wine : 
Besides, I like you not ; if you will know my house, 
'Tis at the tuft of olives, here, hard by : 
Will you go, sister ? — Shepherd, ply her hard : — 
Come, sister : — Shepherdess, look on him better, 
And be not proud : though all the world could see, 
None could be so abused in sight as he. 

[Exeunt Rosalind, Celia, and Corm, a 

Sylv. (l.) Sweet Phcebe ! 

Phoebe, (r.) Hal what say 'st thou, Sylvius ! 

Sylv. Sweet Phcebe, pity me ! 

Phcebe. Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Sylvius. 

Sylv. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be. 

Phoebe. Sylvius, the time was that I hated thee. 
And yet it is not that I bear thee love : 
But since that thou can'st talk of love so well, 
Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, 
I will endure ; and I'll employ thee, too : 
Know'wS.t thou the youth that spoke to me erewhile 1 

Sylc. Not very well; but 1 have, met him oft ; 



48 AS YOU LIKE IT. [Ad IT 

And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds 
That the old Carlot once was master of. 

Phoebe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him. \ 
To fall in love with him : but, for my part, 
I love him not, nor hate him not ; and yet 
I have more cause to hate him than to love him ; 
For what had he to do to chide at me ? 
I marvel I answsred him not again : 
I'll write to him a very taunting letter, 
And thou shalt bear it — Wilt thou, Sylvius ? 

Sylv. Phoebe, with all my heart : 

Phxbe. I'll write it straight ; 
The matter's in my head, and in my heart : 
I will be bitter with him, and passing short : 
Go with me, Sylvius. [llxeii.nt, i* 

Scene III. — The Forest. 

Enter Rosalind, r. and Orlando, l. 

Orl. (l.) Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind. 

'Ros. fR.jWhy, how now, Orlando ! where have you 
been all this while ? You a lover ? — An' you serve me 
such another trick, never come in my sight more. 

Orl. My fair Rosalind, 1 come within an hour of my 
promise. 

Ros. Break an hour's promise in love ! He that will 
divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part 
of a thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of love, it 
may be said of him, that Cupid hath clapped him o' the 
shoulder, but I warrant him heart-whole. 

Orl. Pardon me, dear Rosalind ! 

Ros. Nay, an you be so tardy, come,no more in my 
s'ujht ; I had as lief be wooed of a snail. 
^Od. Of a snail? 

Ros. Ay of a snail ; for though he comes slowly, he 
carries his house on his head ; a better jointure, I think, 
than you can make a woman. — Come, w r oo me, woo me, 
for now I am in holiday humour, and like enough to con- 
sent : — What would you say to me now, an' I were your 
very, very Rosalind ? 

Orl. I would kiss before I spoke. 

Ros Nay. you were better speak tirst ; and when you 



Scene III.] as Yc-tf like it. 4.9 

were gravelled for of matter, you might take occasion 
H? kiss. Very good orators — when they are out, they will 
spit ; and, for lovers lacking matter, the cleanest shift is to 
kiss. 

Orl. How, if the kiss be denied ? 

Ros. Then she puts you to entreaty, aud there begins 
hew matter. 

Orl. Who could be out, being before his beloved mis- 
tress ? 

Ros. Am I not your Rosalind ? 

Orl. I take some joy to say you are, because I would be 
I alking of her. 

Ros. Well, in her person, I say — I will not have you. 

OH. Then, in mine own person, I die. 

Ros. No, 'faith, die by attorney. The poor world is 
almost six thousand years old, and in all this time there was 
not any man died in his own person, videlicet, in a love cause. 
Troilus had his brains dashed out with a Grecian club ; yet 
lie did what he could to die before ; and he is one of the 
patterns of love. Leander, he would have lived many a 
fair year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been 
for a hot Midsummer night : for, good youth, he went but 
forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and, being taken with 
the cramp, was drowned ; and the foolish chronicles of that 
age found it was — Hero of Sestos. But these are all 
lies ; men have died from time to time, and worms have 
eaten them, but not for love. 

Orl. I wouid not have my right Rosalind of this mind, 
for, I protest, her frown might kill me. 

Enter Celia, r. 

Ros. (c.) By this hand, it will not kill a fly ! But come, 
now I will be your Rosalind, in a more coming-on disposi- 
tion ; and ask me what you will, I will grant it. 

Orl. (l. c ) Then love me, Rosalind. 

Ros. Yes, 'faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays, and all 

Orl. And wilt thou have me ? 

Ros. Ay, and twenty such. 

Orl. What say'st thou ? 

Ros. Are you not good ? 

Orl. I hope so. 

Ros. Why, then, can one desire too much of a good 



60 AS YOU LIKE IT. [ ACT IV. 

thing ? — Come, sister, you shall be the priest, and marry 
us. — Give me your hand, Orlando : — What do you say, 
sister ? 

Cel. (b.) I cannot say the words. 

Ros. You must begin — Will you, Orlando— 

Cel. Go to : — Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Ro- 
salind ? 

Orl. I will. 

Ros. Ay, but when? 

Orl. Why, now : as fast as she can marry us. 

Ros. Then you must say — I take thee, Rosalind, for 
wife. 

Orl. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. 

Ros. Now, tell me how long would you have her after 
you have possessed her ? 

Orl. Forever, and a day. 

Ros. Say a day, without the ever ; no, no, Orlando ; 
men are April when they woo, December when they wed : 
maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes, 
when they are wives. (Cdia retires up the Stage.) I will 
be more jealous of thee, than a Barbary cock-pigeon over 
his hen : more clamorous than a parrot against rain * more 
new-fangled than an ape ; more giddy in my desires than a 
monkey ; I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, 
and I will do that, when you are disposed to be merry : I 
will laugh like a hyena, and that, when you are inclined to 
sleep. 

Orl. But will my Rosalind do so ? 

Ros. By my life she will do as I do ! 

Orl. Oh, but she is wise ? 

Ros. Or else she could not have the wit to do this ; the 
wiser, the way warder : make the doors upon a woman's wit, 
and it will out at the casement ; shut that, and 'twill out 
at the key-hole ; stop that, it will fly with the smoke out at 
the chimney. 

Orl. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might 
say — Wit, whither wilt ? 

Ros. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till you met 
your wife's wit going to a neighbour's bed. 

04. And what wit could have wit to excuse that ? 

Ros. Marry, to say — she came to seek you there. You 
shall never take her without her answer, unless you take 



Scene III.] as you like it 51 

her without her tongue. Oh, that woman tiiat cannot 
make her fault her husband's occasion, let her never nurse 
her child herself, for she will breed it like a fool 1 

SONG. — Rosalind. 

When daisies pied and violets blue, 

And ladies' smocks all silver white. 
And cuckoo buds of yellow hue, 

Do paint the meadows with delight, 
The cuckoo then on every tree 
Mocks married men, for thus sings he — 

Cuckoo — 
Cuckoo, cuckoo — Oh, word of fear, 
m Unpleasing to a married ear. 

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, 
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, 

When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, 
And maidens bleach their summer smocks, 

The cuckoo then, on every tree, 

Mocks married men, for thus sings be — 
Cuckoo — 

Cuckoo, cuckoo — Oh, word of fear, 

Unpleasing to a married ear. 

Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee, 

Has. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours ! 

Oti. I must attend the duke at dinner ; by two o'clock 
i will be with thee again. 

Ros. Ay, go your ways, go your ways ; I knew what, 
you would prove 1 my friends told me as much, and I 
thought no less : that flattering tongue of yours won me ; 
'tis but one cast away, and so — oome death. Two o'clock 
is your hour ? 

Oti. Ay, sweet Rosalind ! 

Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God 
mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, 
if you break one jot of your promise, or come one minute 
behind your hour, I will think you the most patheticai 
break-promise, and the most hollow lover, and the most 
unworthy of her you call Rosalind, that may be chosen out 
of the gross band of the unfaithful : therefore, beware my 
censure, and keep your promise. 

Orl. With no less religion, than if thou wert indeed m\> 
Rosalind : so, adieu ! 

Ros. Well, time is the old justice, that examines all such 
offenders, and let time try : Adieu! [E.rit Orlando, \ m 



62 AS YOU LIKE IT, j A <JT ] V. 

Cel. You have simply misused our sex in your love- 
prate. 

llos. (h.) Oh, coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that 
thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love ! 
But it cannot be sounded : my affection hath an unknown 
bottom, like the bay of Portugal. 

Cel. Or, rather, bottomless; that, as fast as you poi;, 
affection in, it runs out. — Look, who comes here ? 

Enter Sylvius, l. 

Sylv. My errand is to you, fair youth ; 
My gentle Phoebe bid me give yon this : [Giving a letter. 
I know not the contents : but, as I guess, 
By the stern brow and waspish action 
Which she did use as she was writing it, 
It bears an angry ;enor. Pardon me, 
I am but as a guiltless messenger. 

Ros. (Beading.) Patience herself would startle at tliii 
letter, , 
And play the swaggerer ! Bear this, bear all ! 
She says, 1 am not fair ; that I lack manners ; 
She calls me proud ; and that she could not love me, 
Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will ! 
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt. 
Why writes she so to me ? Well, shepherd, well, 
This is a letter of your own device. 

Sylv. No, I protest, I know not the contents ; 
Phcebe did write it. 

llos. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style, 
A style for challengers ; why, she defies me,_ 
Like Turk to Christian ; woman's gentle brain 
Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention, 
Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect 
Than in their countenance. — Will you hear the letter ? 

Sylv. So please you, for never heard it yet ; 
Yet 'heard too much of Phoebe's cruelty. 

Ros. She Phcebe's me 5 mark how the tyrant writes :- 

(Reads.) " Art thou god to shepherd turned, 

That a maiden's heart hath burned V* 
Can a woman rail thus ? 

Sylv. Call' you this railing ? 



SCKNK III.] -AS YOU LIKE /T. 53 

Ros. (Reads.) " Why, thy godhead laid apart, 
Warr'st thou with a woman's heart ? 

Did you ever hear such railing ? 

" Whiles the eye of man did woo me, 
That could do no Vengeance to me." 
Meaning me a beast. — 

" If the scorn of your bright eyne 
Have power to raise such love in rnine, 
Alack, in me what strange effect 
Would they work in mild aspect ! 
Whiles you chid me, I did love ; 
How then might your prayers move ? 
He, that brings this love to thee, 
Little knows this love in me : 
And by him seal up thy mind ; 
Whether that thy youth and kind 
Will the faithful offer take 
Of me and all that I can make ; 
Or else by him my love deny, 
And then I'll study how to die." 

Spiv. Call you this chiding ? 

Cel. Alas, poor shepherd ! 

Ros. (Crosses, n.) Do you pity him? no, lie /.osertes no 
pity. Wilt thou love such a woman? Whi/c, to make 
thee an instrument, and play false strains upov; thee ! not 
to be endured ! — Well, go your way to her, (for I see love 
hath made thee a tame snake,) and say thi^ to her: — 
" That, if she loves me, I charge her to love thee : if she 
will not, I will never have her, unless thou entreat for 
her." If you be a true lover, hence, and not a word ; for 
here comes more company. [Exit Sylvius, l. 

Enter Oliver, l. 

Oliv. (l.) Good morrow, fair ones: Pray you, if you 
know, 
Whore, in the purlieus of this forest, stands 
A ^ieep : cote, fenced about with olive-trees ? 

Cel. (c.) West of this place, down in the neighbour 
bottom, 
Brings you to the place : 



54 AS YOU LIKE IT. |Ad IV 

But at this hour, the house doth keep itself ; 
There's none within. 

Oliv. If that an eye may profit by a tongue, 
Then "should I know you by description ; 
Such garments, and such years : " The boy is fair, 
Of female favour, and bestows himself 
Like a ripe sister : but the woman low, 
And browner than her brother." Are not you 
The owner of the house I did inquire for ? 

Cel. It is no boast, being asked, to say we are. 

Oliv. Orlando doth commend him to you both ; 
And to that youth he calls his Rosalind, 
He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he ? 

Ros. (Advancing to c.) I am. What must we under- 
stand by this ? 

Oliv. Some of my shame — if you will know of me 
What man I am, and how, and why, and where 
This handkerchief was stained. 

Cel. I pray you, tell it. 

Oliv. When last the young Orlando parted from yen, 
He left a promise to return again 
Within an hour ; and pacing through the forest, 
Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, 
Lo, what befel ! he threw his eye aside, 
And, mark, what object did present itself ! 
Under an oak, whose boughs were mossed with age, 
And high top bald with dry antiquity, 
A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, 
Lay sleeping on his back ; about his neck 
A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, 
Who, with her head, nimble in threats, approached 
The opening of his mouth ; but, suddenly 
Seeing Orlando, it unlinked itself, 
And, with indented glides, did slip away 
Into a bush : under which bush's shade 
A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, 
Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watch, 
When that the sleeping man should stir ; for 'tis 
The royal disposition of that beast, 
To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead : 
This seen, Orlando did approach the man, 
And found it was his brother, his elder brother. 



Scene III.] as you like it. 55 

Ros. Oh, I have heard liim speak of that same brothel 
And he did render him the most unnatural 
That lived 'mongst men. 

Oliv. And well he might so do, 
For well I know he was unnatural. 

Ros But to Orlando : — Did he leave him there, 
Food to the sucked and hungry lioness ? 

Oliv. (l. c.) Twice did he turn his back, and purposed 
so : 
But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, 
And nature, stronger than his just occasion, 
Made him give battle to the lioness, 
Who quickly fell before him ; in which hurtling 
From miserable slumber I awaked. 

Cel. (l. c.) Are you his brother ? 

Ros. (c.) Was it you he rescued ? 

Cel. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him ? 

Oliv. J Twas I, but ''tis not I : I do not shame 
To tell you what I was, since my conversion 
So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. 

Ros. But, for the bloody napkm ? 

Oliv. By and by. 
When, from the first to last, betwixt us two, 
Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed, 
As how I came into that desert place ; — 
In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke, 
Who gave me fresh array and entertainment. 
Committing me unto my brother's love j 
Who led me instantly unto his cave, 
There stripped himself, and here, upon his arm 
The lioness had torn some flesh away, 
Which all this while had bled : and now he fainted, 
And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind. 
Brief, I recovered him ; bound up his wound ; 
And, after some small space, being strong at heart, 
He sent me hither, stranger as I am, 
To tell this story, that you might excuse 
His broken promise, and to give this napkin, 
Dyed in this blood, unto the shepherd youth 
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. 

Cel. Why, how now, Ganymede ? sweet Ganymede ? 

[Rosalind faints. 



56 AS YOU LIKE IT. [ACT- V, 

Oliv. Many will swoon when they look on blood 

Cel. There is more in it : — Cousin — Ganymede I 

Oliv. Look, he recovers. 

Ros. I would I were at home 1 

Cel. We'll lead yon thither :— 
I pray you will you take him by the arm ! 

Oliv. Be of good cheer, youth : — You a man !: — 
You lack a man's heart. 

Ros. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sir, a body would think 
this was well counterfeited : I pray yon, tell your brother 
how well I counterfeited. Heigho ! 

Oliv. This was not counterfeit : there is too great tes- 
timony in your complexion, that it was a passion of earnest. 

Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you. 

Oliv. Well, then take a good heart, and counterfeit to 
be a man. 

Ros. So I do ; but, i'faith, I should have been a woman 
by right. 

Cel. Come, you look paler, and paler ; pray you, draw 
homewards : — Good sir, go with us. 

Oliv. That will I ; for I must' bear answer back, how 
you excuse my brother, Rosalind. . 

Ros. I shall devise something : But, I pray you, com- 
mend my counterfeiting to him. Will you go ? [Exeunt, l. 

END OF ACT IV. 



ACT V. 

Scene I. — The Forest. 
Enter Touchstone and Audrey, l. 

Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey ; patience, geatle 
Audrey. 

And. (r. c.) 'Faith, the priest was good enough, for all 
the old gentleman's saying. 

Touch. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey ! a most vile 
Mar-text ! But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest 
lays claim to you. 



Scene I.] al you like it. 57 

And. Ay, I know who 'tis ; he hath no interest in me 
in the world • here comes the man you mean. 

Enter William, l. 

Touch, (c ) It is meat and drink in me to see a clown : 
By my troth, we, that have good wits have much to answer 
for ; we shall be louting : we cannot hold. 

Wil. (l.) Good even, Audrey. 

And. Give ye good even, William. 

Wil. And good even to you, sir. 

'Touch. Good even, gentle friend . Cover thy head, 
cover thy head : nay, pr'ythee, be covered. How old are 
you, friend ? 

Wil. Five and twenty, sir. 

Touch. A ripe age : is thy name William ? 

Wil. William, sir. 

Touch. A fair name : Wast born i'the forest here ? 

Wil. Ay, sir, I thank heaven. 

Touch. Thank heaven ! a good answer : Art rich ? 

Wil. 'Faith, sir, so, so. 

Touch. So, so ! 'Tis good, very good, very excellent 
good — and yet it is not ; it is but so so. Art thou wise ! 

Wil. Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. 

Touch. Why, thou say'st well ? I do now remember a 
saying : "The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man 
knows himself to be a fool." The heathen philosopher, when 
he had a desire to eat a grape, would open his 
lips when he put it into his mouth ; meaning thereby, that 
grapes were made to eat, and lips to open. You do love 
this maid ? 

Wil. I do, sir. 

Touch. Give me your hand : Art thou learned ? 

Wil. No, sir. 

Touch. Then learn this of me : to have is to have ; for it 
is a figure in rhetoric, that drink, being poured out of a cup 
into a glass, by filling the one doth empty the other : For 
all your writers do consent that ipse is he : now you are not 
ipse, for I am he. 

Wil. Which he, sir ? 

Touch. He, sir, that must marry this woman : There 
fore, you clown, abandon — which is in the vulgar, leave — 
the societv — which in the boorish is — company — of this 



58 AS YOU LIKE IT. f ACT T. 

female — which in the common is — woman, which togeth- 
er is, abandon the society of this female ; or, clown, thou 
perishest ; or, to thy better understanding, diest ; or, to 
wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life unto 
death, thy liberty into bondage : I will deal in poison with 
thee, or in bastinado, or in steel ; I will bandy with thee 
in faction ; I will overrun thee with policy ; I will kill 
thee a hundred and fifty ways ; therefore tremble, and 
depart. 

And. Do, good William. 

Wil. Rest you merry, sir. [Exit, r. 

Touch. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey ; I attend, I attend 

[Exeunt, l. 

. Scene II. — The Forest. 
Enter Oliver and Orlando, l. 

Orl. ("l ) Is't possible, that on so little acquaintance you 
should like her? that, but seeing, you should love her? and, 
loving, woo ? and, wooing, she should grant ? And you 
will persevere to enjoy her ! 

Oliv. (n.) Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the 
poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden wooing, 
nor her sudden consenting ; but say with me, I love Aliena ; 
say with her, that she loves me ; consent with both, that 
we may enjoy each other ; it shall be to your good : for 
my father's house, and all the revenue that was old Sir 
Rowland's, will I estate upon you, and here live and die a 
shepherd. 

Enter Rosalind, r. 

Orl. You have my consent. Let your wedding be to- 
morrow : thither will I invite the duke, and all his contented 
followers. Go, you, and prepare Aliena ; for look you, here 
comes my Rosalind ! 

Res. (r.) Heaven save you, brother ! 

Oliv. And you, fair sister. [Exit, r. 

Ros. Oh !. my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see 
thee wear thy heart in a scarf I 

Orl. (l. c.) It is my arm. 

Ros. I thought thy heart had been wounded with the 
ulaw? of a lion. 



Scene II.] as you like it. 59 

OH. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. 

Ros. (r. c.) Did your brother tell ycu how I counter 
feited to swoon, when he showed me your handkerchief ? 

OH. Ay, and greater wonders than that. 

R os. (c.) Ob, I know where you are :— - Nay, 'tis true : 
there was never anything so sudden, but the fight of two 
rams, and Caesar's Thrasonical brag of — " I came, saw, and 
overcame f For your brother and my sister no sooner 
met, but they looked ; no sooner looked, but they loved ; 
no sooner loved, but they sighed ; no sooner sighed, but 
they asked one another the reason ; no sooner knew the 
reason, than they sought the remedy ; and in these degrees 
have they made a pair of stairs to marriage ; they are in 
the very wrath of love, and they will together ; clubs can- 
not part them. 

Orl. They shall be married to-morrow ; and I will bid 
the duke to the nuptial. But, oh, how bitter a thing it is 
to look into happiness through »i;oMier man's eyes ! By so 
much the more shall 1 «hi <•; uw ym at the height of heart- 
heaviness, by how muui i t^u Lu.iik my brother happy, in 
having what he wishes for. 

Ros. Why, then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for 
Rosalind ? 

OH. I can live no longer by thinking. 

Ros. I will weary you then no longer with idle talk- 
ing. Know of me, then, (for now I speak to some purpose J 
that I can do strange things : I have, since I was three 
years old, conversed with a magician, most profound in 
his art, and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind 
so near the heart as your gesture cries it out, when your 
brother marries Aliena shall you marry her : I know into 
what straits of fortune she is driven ; and it is not impossi- 
ble to me, if it appear not inconvenient to you, to set her 
before your eyes, human as she is, and without any dan- 
ger. 

OH. Speak'st thou in sober meaning ? 

Ros. By my life, I do ; which I tender dearly, though 
I say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in your best 
array, bid your friends ; for if you will be married to-mor- 
row, you shall ; and to Rosalind, if you will. 
Enter Sylvius and Phoebe, l. 
Look, h^re comes a lover of mine, and a love* of hers 1 



CO AS YOU LIKE IT. [Act V. 

Phoebt. (l. c.) Youth, you have done me much ungen- 
tleness, 
To show the letter that I writ to you. 

Ros. (r. c.J I care not, if I have : it is my study 
To seem despiteful and ungentle to you : 
You are there followed by a faithful shepherd ; 
Look upon him, love him ; he worships you. 

Phoebe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to 
love. 

Sylv. (l.) It is to be all made of sighs and tears ;— 
And so I am for Phoebe. 

Phcebe. And I for Ganymede. 

Orl. And I for Rosalind. 

Ros. And I for no woman 

Sylv. It is to be all made of faith and service ; 
And so am I for Phcebe. 

Phcebe. And I for Ganymede. *i 

Orl. (r.) And I for Rosalind. 

Ros. And I for no woman. Pray you, no more of this : 
'tis like the howling of Irish wolves against the moon. 
[To Sylvius.] I will help you if I can : — [To Phcebe.] I 
would love you if I could : — To-morrow, meet me all to- 
gether. — [To th^be. , I will marry you if ever I marry wo- 
man, and I'll be married to-morrow : — [To Sylvius.] I will 
content you, if what pleases yon contents you, and you shall 
be married to-morrow : — [Tu Orlando.] As you love Rosa- 
lind, meet : — (To Sylvius.) As you love Phoebe, meet : — 
And as I love no woman,. I'll meet. So, fare you well : I 
have left you commands. [Exit, l. 

Sylv. I'll not fail, if I live. 

Phaioe. Nor I. 

OH. Nor I. I_Exeunc, l. 

Scene III. — Another Part of the Forest. 

Enter Duke, Orlando, Oliver, Jaques, Sylvius, Phcebe, 
and Foresters, r. u e. 

Duke, (c.) "Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy 
Can do all this that he hath promised ? 

Orl. (l. c.) I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do 
not : 
As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. 



Scene III.] as you like it. «J 

Enter Rosalind, l. 

Ros. (l.J Patience once more, whiles our compact is 
urged ; 
(To Duke.) You say, (o.) if I bring in your Rosalind, 
You will bestow her on Orlando here? 

Duliz. That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. 

Ros. (l. c.j (To Orlando.) And you say, you will have 
her when I bring her ? 

Orl. That would I. were I of all kingdoms king. 

Ros. (l.) (lo Phoebe.) You say, you'll marry me, if I be 
willing ? 

Phcebe. (r.) That will I, should I die the hour after 

Ros. But if you do refuse to marry me, 
You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd ? 

Phoebe. So is the bargain. 

Ros. ( r Lo Sylvius.) You say, that you'll have Phcebe, if 
she will ? 

Sylv. Though to have her and death were but one thing. 

Ros. (c.) Keep your word, Duke 1 to give your 
daughter ; 
You yours, (l. c.) Orlando, to receive his daughter ; 
Keep your word, (r c.) Phcebe, that you'll marry me ; 
Or else, refusing me, to wed this shepherd : — 
Keep your word, Sylvius, that you'll marry her, 
If she refuse me : and from hence I go, 
To make these doubts all even. [Exit, r. 

Duke, (l. c.) I do remember in this shepherd boy, 
Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. 

Orl. (r. c.) My lord, the first time that ever I saw him, 
Methought he was a brother to your daughter • 
But, my good lord, the boy is forest-born, 
And hath been tutored in the rudiments 
Of many desperate studies by his uncle, 
Whom he reports to be a great magician, 
Obscured in the circle of this forest. 

Touch. ( Without.) Come along, Audrey. 

Enter Touchstone and Audrey, l. 

Jaques. 'il.) There is, sure, another flood toward, and 
these couples are coming to the ark ! Here comes a pair 



62 A"9 YOU LIKE IT. [AcT T. 

of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fook 

Touch. Salutation and greeting to you all. 

Jaques. Good my lord, bid him welcome. This is the 
motley-minded gentleman, that I have so often met in the 
forest : he hath been a courtier, he swears. 

Touch, (l.) If any man doubt that, let him put me to my 
purgation. I have trod a measure ; I have flattered a lady ; 
I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy; 
I have undone three tailors ; I have had four quarrels, and 
like to have fought one. 

Jaques. And how was that ta'en up ? 

Touch. 'Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon 
the seventh cause. 

Jaques. How seventh cause ? Good my lord, like this 
fellow. 

Duke. I like him very well. 

Touch. God 'ild you, sir ; I desire of you the like. I 
press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives, 
to swear, and to forswear ; according as marriage binds, and 
blood breaks : — A poor virgin, sir, and ill-favoured thing, 
sir, but mine own ; a poor humour of mine, sir, to take that 
no man else will : Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a 
poor house ; as your pearl in your foul oyster. 

Duke. By my faith, he is very swift and sententious ! 

Touch. According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet 
diseases. 

Jaques. But, for the seventh cause : how did you find the 
quarrel on the seventh cause ? 

Touch. Upon a lie seven times removed — Bear your 
body more seeming, Audrey : (Audrey, l. assumes a stiff and 
formal air.) — as thus, sir : I did dislike the cut of a certain 
courtier's beard ; he sent me word, if I said his beard was 
not cut well, he was in the mind it was : This is called the 
retort courteous, if I sent him word again it was not well 
cut he would send me word he cut it to please himself : This is 
called the quip modest. If, again, it was not well cut, he 
disabled my judgment : This is called the reply churlish. If 
again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I speak not 
true : This is called the reproof valiant. If again, it was 
not well cut, he woul I say, I lie. This is called the counter- 



Scene III,] as you like it. 63 

check quarrelsome ; and so to the lie circumstantial, and the 
He direct. 

Jaques. And how oft did you say his beard was not well 
cut ? 

Touch. I durst go no further than the lie circumstantial, 
nor he durst not give me the lie direct ; and so we measured 
swords and parted. 

Jaques. Can vou nominate in order, now, the degrees of 
the lie ? 

Touch. Oh, sir, we quarrel in print by the book, 
as you have books for good manners. I will name you the 
degrees. The first the retort courteous ; the second, the 
quip modest ; the third, the reply churlish ; the fourth, the 
reply valiant ; the fifth the countercheck quarrelsome : the 
sixth, the line with circumstance ; the seventh, the lie direct. 
All this you may avoid but tine lie direct ; and you may 
avoid tliat, too, with an If. I knew when seven justices 
could not take up a quarrel ; but when the parties were met 
themselves, one of them thought of an [f, as — If you said 
so, then I said so : and they shook hands, and swore brothers. 
Your If is the the only peacemaker ; much virtue in If 

Jaques. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord ? he's good at 
anything, and yet a fool ! 

Duke. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and unuei 
the presentation of that, he shoots his wit. 

Enter Jaques de Bois, l. 

Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word or two. 
I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, 
That brhfgs these tiding to this fair assembly :— • 
Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day 
Men of great worth resorted to this forest, 
Addressed a mighty power which were on foot, 
in his own conduct, purposely to take 
iiis brother here", and put him to the sword : 
An.l to the skirts of this wild wood he came ; 
Where, meeting with an old religious man, 
After some question with him. was converted 
Both from his enterprise, and from the world : 
His crown bequeathing to his banished brother, 
And all their' hniHs restored to them again 



64 A8 YOU LIK1C IT. f ACT V 

That were with him exiled : — This to be true, 
I do engage my life. 

Duke. Welcome, young man : 
Thou offer'st fairly to thy brother's wedding. [A Dance. 

Enter Hymen, attended. 

ilym. Then is there mirth in heaven, 

When earthly things, made even, 

Atone"together. 
Good Duke, receive thy daughter, 
Hymen from from heaven brought her, 

Yea, brought her hither, 
That thou might'st join her hand with his, 
Whose heart within his bosom is. 

Hymen goes to the top of the Stage, brings forward Rosa 
lind, and presents her to the Duke. — Celia comes forward, 

Ros. (To the Duke.) To you I give myself, for I am 
yours. 
( To Orlando.) To you I give myself, for I am yours. 

Duke, (c.) If there be truth in sight, you are my daugh- 
ter. 

Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind. 

Ros. (To the Duke.) I'll have no father, if vou be uot 
he: 
( To Orlando.) I'll have no husband, if yon be not he : 
(To Phxbe.) Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. 

Hym. Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing, 
Feed yourselves with questioning. 

Duke, Oh, my dear niece, welcome thou art to me ; 
Even daughter, welcome in no less degree. 
First, in this forest let us do these ends, 
Thai here were well begun, and well begot : 
And sifter, every of this hapjTy number 
That have endured Hirewd days and nights with as, 
Sii,.!l share the good of our returnetLfortune, 
According to the measures of their states. 
Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity, 
Ami fall into your rustic revelry : — 
Play, music ; — and you brides and bridegrooms all, 
With measure heaped in joy, to the measures fall. 

Toaues. Sir, by your patience ;— If I heard you rigbtty. 



Scene II.] as you like it. 65 

The Duke hath put on a religious life, 

And thrown into neglect the pompous court ? 

Jaq. de B. He hath. 

Jaques. To him will I : out of these convertites 
There is much matter to be heard and learned. — • 
( To the Duke.) You, to your former honour I bequeath ; 
your patience and your virtue well deserves it : 
( To Orl.) You to a love that your true faith doth merit — 
( To Oliver.) You, to your land, and love, and great allies : 
( To Sylvius.) Yon, to a long and well-deserved bed : — 
To Touchstone.) And you to wrangling ; for thy loving voy* 
age 
Is but for two months victualled — 

Touch. Come along, Audrey. [Exit with Audrey. 

Jaques. So to your pleasures ; 
1 am for other than for dancing measures. 

Duke. Stay, Jaques, stay. 

Jaques. To see no pastime, I : — What you would have, 
I'll stay to know at your abandoned cave. [Exit, l. 

Duke. Proceed, proceed ; we will begin these rites, 
As we do trust they'll end in true delights. 

EPILOGUE. 

Ros. If it be true, that " Good wine needs no bush," His 
true, that a good play needs no epilogue: Yet to good 
wine, they do use good bushes : and by good plays prove 
the better by the help of good epilogues. — What a case am 
Km, then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor can insinu- 
ate with you in the behalf of a good play ? I am not fur- 
nished like a beggar : therefore, to beg will not become 
me : my way is, to conjure you, and I'll begin with the wo- 
men. I charge you, oh, women ! for the iove you bear to 
men, to like as much of this play as pleases them : and I 
charge you, oh, men ! for the love you bear to women, fas 
I perceive, by your simpering, none of you hate them,) that, 
' ciwyeii you and the women, the play may please. If 
i were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards 
r hit t pleased me, complexions that liked me • and, I am 
Hire, as many as have good beards, or good faces, will, for 
my kind offer, when I make a courtesy, bid me farewell. 

[Cwtainfatts 

THE END. 



A Glorious Change. 



Medical treatment has been revolutionized. The Drastic 
purgatives with which it was the fashion to scour the system 
for every ailment, twenty years ago, have been abandoned. 
At last the discovery has been made that RENOVATION, NOT 
PROSTRATION, IS THE TRUE MEDICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
The introduction of PLANTATION BITTERS opened 
the eyes of the world to this great fact. The life-sustaining 
principle embodied in this great Vegetable Restorative is 
manifested in the weak and desponding by an immediate and 
most encouraging change. A pleasant glow, the precursor of 
returning health, is diffused through the system, and every 
day the invalid is conscious of a new accession of vital power. 
If the appetite has failed, it is quickened ; if digestion has 
been painful and imperfect, it becomes easy and thorough; 
if the liver is torpid, it is roused and regulated j if the nerves 
are relaxed, they are strengthened and restrung; if the brain 
has been haunted by morbid fancies, they are put to flight, 
and hope and cheerfulness return. The old practice was to 
convulse, and rack, and strain the feeble patient with power- 
ful cathartics. It was like clubbing a man after he was down. < 
Happily, this false and fatal mode of treatment no longer 
finds favor with the enlightened members of the faculty.. In 
the face of the extraordinary cures of general debility, dys- 
pepsia, biliousness, constipation and mental despondency, 
wrought by Plantation Bitters, no practitioner, not in league 
with death and the undertaker, could persist in it. The 
terrible evacuents which were once prescribed as Spring and 
Summer Medicines, have utterly lost their prestige. The 
sick will not take them— and Plantation Bitters, in which are 
combined the elements of a stomachic, an invigorant, a mild 
laxative, a nervine, and an anti-bilious specific, reigns in 
their stead. Plantation Bitters are sold by all respectable 
Druggists in the United States. 



THE NEW FOOD. 



Office of the RAND SEA MOSS FARINE CO., 1 
No. 53 Park Place. j 

In order that the public may be as fully informed as possible, in regard to 
the Sea Moss Farine, -we submit as much information of its worth and merit 
as space will admit. It is exceedingly gratifying to the Company to know that 
their efforts to place a really good article of food in the market is so fully 
appreciated ; and we trust that in the future, as well as in the past, we may 
continue to merit the appreciation of all. 



[From the Weekly Tribune of Dec. 15, 1869.] 
AMERICAN INSTITUTE FARMERS' CLUB, 

Session of December 7, 1869, held at Cooper Union. Alderman Nathan C. Ely 

in the chair, John W. Chambers, Secretary. The first subject introduced was — 

"A. UNTIBW ARTICLE OIF" FOOD." 

The "ex-Mayor of Boston," Hon. J. V. C. Smith, M. D., distributed some 
parcels of Sea Moss Fabine, which he said is ottered to the pub lie as the most 
nutritive, delicious and cheap article of its class ever manufactured in this 
country or in Europe. The ex-Mayor gave a lengthened professional evidence 
in tavor of the preparation, and detailed like opinions of medical gentlemen in 
Europe. 

To ascertain if these claims are well founded, the following ladies — who 
are distinguished for their intelligence and social position, and as acting under 
the authority'of the Institute — were appointed a Committee to examine it and 
report : Mrs. L. E. Lyman, Mrs. J. W. Chambers, Mrs. D. T. Conner, Mrs. D. 
B. Bruen and Mrs. M. J. dishing, M. D. 



[From the Weelcly Tribune, Dec. 22, 1869.] 
AMERICAN INSTITUTE FARMERS' CLUB, 
Session of Tuesday, Dec. 21, 1869, held at Cooper Union. Nathan C. Ely, Chair- 
man ; John W. Chambers, Secretary. 

Report on tlxe New Article of Food — Sea Moss Farine. 

The Committee of Ladies, Mrs. Lyman, Mrs. Chambers and others, re- 
quested to report on Carrageen, or Irish Moss (from which Sea Moss Fakine is 
manufactured), as a dish for the table, finds that the substance grows on rocks 
and stones on the sea-coasts of Europe, and in peculiar abundance on the Atlan- 
tic coast of Ireland, where itis chiefly gathered. Itis said to be a native of the 
United States, and is found in limited quantities on the coast ol Massachusetts. 
It is picked from the rocks at low tide. After being washed, it is dried in the 
sun. Chemists and doctors who have analyzed it, find it is nutritive and 
demulcent ; and, being easy of digestion, it forms a useful article of dietas a 
substitute for grain foods, and is particularly recommended in chronic pectoral 
affections, scrofulous complaints, dysentery, diarrhea, &c. Carrageen is very 
gelatinous, and very valuable as food. Itis recognized as superior to all orders 
of moss as demulcent, and in its nutritive qualities. It is said that Napoleon 
Bonaparte said to Dr. O'Meara, atSt. Helena, that it was employed as an article 
of diet by physicians in Corsica, in the treatment of tumors and cancers, on 
account ox the iodine it contains. It 'is used in England and Franee as a light 
and nourishing article of food. 



A NEW FOOD SOURCE. 



The moss, as it comes from the sea, is filled with sand, pebbles, small 
shells, &c, arid very saline in taste : and, prepared as food in its original state, 
is very troublesome to the housekeeper, while it is very easy to prepare when 
made from Sea Moss Farine. By this process, it is first thoroughly washed 
and deprived of its extr Ae saline taste. It is then picked over by hand and 
desiccated, after which it passes through several mills and machines, by which 
it is cleaned perfectly, and reduced to a powdered and concentrated condition 
without being deprived of its refreshing ocean flavor. A packet of Corn Starch, 
Maizena or Farina costs 16c. at retail, and makes, combined with milk, without 
eggs, only from four to six quarts of Blanc Mange Pudding, while Sea Moss 
Farine, costing 25c, will produce full sixteen quarts. The Committee are 
satisfied that as a cheap, simple and ready dessert, or a dish for young children 
and for invalids, it will be found, as thus prepared, a valuable addition to articles 
more generally known and widely used. ^ 

(Signed,) 
Mrs. L. E. LYMAN, (wife of the Agricultural Editor of 

the N. Y. Tribune. 
Mrs. J. W. CHAMBERS, (wife of the Secretary of the 

American Institute. ) 
Mrs. D. T. CONNER, 5-Mile Run, N. J. 
Mrs. D. B. BRUEN, Newark, N. J. 
Mrs. MARIA J. CUSHINGr, M. D., 231 East 40th St., N. Y. 



ASTOR HOUSE, New York, Jan., 1870. 
Rand Sea Moss Farine Co. : 

Gentlemen : We commenced the use of your Sea Moss Farine at your earnest 
solicitation, but very reluctantly, and without any faith in it, from the fact that 
so many new articles of food are daily offered, and prove, in almost every case, 
to-be utterly worthless. We are very happy to say that yours has not only 
proved an exception, but is a decided success. It not only possesses real, merit, 
but makes a delicious dessert. We shad continue to use it for two reasons : first, 
the guests of the Astor House like it ; and second, we like it, because it is by far 
the cheapest article in the market for Blanc Mange, Puddings, Creams, &c. 

Very respectfully yours, 

C. A. STETSON'S SONS 



Brooklyn, N. Y., Sept. 13, 1869. 
My Dear Rand : I have submitted your ' ' Sea Moss Farine ' ' to the * ' kitchen 
cabinet," and the decision is decidedly favorable. It quite surpassed my most 
sanguine expectations. There is a slight and yet positive sea flavor — just a hint 
of the ocean — in it, which ? -> rare and delightful. My wife liked it, the children 
liked it — took to it najjirally — and all at the table passed up their dishes twice. 
The peoples' proverb was verified, that " the proof of a pudding is in eating it.*' 
Your friend and brother, 

J. HYATT SMITH, 

Pastor of the Lee Ave. Baptist Church. 



PARKER HOUSE, Boston, Jan. 25, 1870. 1 
Rand Sea Moss Farine Co., New York : 

We are using " Sea Moss Farine," and find it just what you state it is — real, 
pure Irish Moss, so refined, desiccated and condensed that we can prepare 
dishes for dessert from it in a few minutes, instead of hours, when made from 
the crude moss. 

We very cordially recommend it (as prepared by you) far superior and 
much cheaper than Corn Starch, Maizena, Farina, Gelatine, or any like article 
for Blanc Mange, Creams, Puddings, Charlotte Russe, &c, &c. We hope that 
its delicate and elegant appearance on the table — and more than all this, its 
well-known healthfulness and delicious flavor — will command for it millions of 
eonsumera. Respectfully yours, 

H. D. PARKER & 00. 



A NEW FOOD SOUKCE. 



We have received the following characteristic note from the celebrated Dio 
Lewis, A. M., M. D., Principal of the Lexington Young Ladies' Seminary for 
Physical Education, author of "Weak Lungs, and Horn to Make Them Strong," 
of " The New Gymnastics for Men, Women and Children," and "Lecture on 
Physical Culture :" 

17 Beacon Street, Boston, January 25, 1870. 
Rand Sea Moss Farine Co. : 

My wife says that your new preparation, "Sea Moss Farine," is worth its 
weight in gold ; no trouble, so sure, and so delicious. 

Believe me, in addition to my "better half's " testimony, when I add that 
my most toothsome tooth is very thankfully yours. DIO LEWIS. 



^KOM THITC PRESS. 

No such sensation has been created in the food market during the present 
century, as that occasioned by the introduction of the new staff of life, known 
as Sea Moss Farine. It is difficult to tell the truth about this extraordinary 
article of diet without being suspected of exaggeration- — Boston Post. 

A still greater number of distinguished physicians and scientific chemists 
indorse it as anutritient of the very first class, while every housekeeper who 
uses it admits that it is fully fifty per cent, cheaper than Maizena, Farina, Corn 
Starch, or any other kindred preparation. — Boston Times. ' 

Housekeepers declare that the quantity of exquisite Custards. Blanc Mange, 
Light Pudding, Creams, Jelly, &c, producible from the Farine, exceeds by one 
half that obtainable from any other glutinous agent used in cooking. — St. Louis 
Republican. 

One experiment will convince the most skeptical that with Sea Moss Farine 
they can produce unequalled Custards, Puddings, Jellies, Charlotte Russe, 
Creams, Soups, &c, &c. — Express. 

Here, then, we have an entirely new article of food of the most delicate and 
inviting character, adapted to the use of the table for Blanc Mange, Puddings. 
Charlotte de Russe, &c, and almost invaluable for use by the invalid. It is 
simple, delicate; nutritious, harmless, remedial and economical, as it can be 
furnished for one-third to one-half the cost of Corn Starch, Maizena, Farina, 
&c, for all of which it is more than a substitute. It is made up without 
trouble, and will always be good. Try it ; and our word for it, you will continue 
in it3 use: — Independent. 

The Company state at least fifty delicious dishes can be made from the Sea 
Moss Farine, and give in their circular the recipes for many of them. We 
consider Mr. Rand's discovery a highly-important one for the millions, and 
indeed for all classes of society, in these stringent times. — The Weekly. 

It has been placed, so to speak, in the. front rank of our food staples, and 
all that has been said of it by the patentee \Mr. Raudj, and the Company inte- 
rested in its sale, appears to be approved aud confirmed by public opinion. — 
The Mail. 

As to its deiiciousness, the "proof of the pudding is in eating it ;" and 
we feel confident that no man or woman who has once eaten of a Blanc Mange, 
Pudding, Custard, Cream, Charlotte Russe, or any other delicacy prepared with 
this marine Grodsend, will deny its claim to rank among the table luxuries of 
the period. — Tribune. 

This apparently impossibility has been overcome — experimental science 
overcomes almost every obstacle, now-a-daj r s — and Irish Moss, purified, con- 
centrated, and rendered an absolute luxury, as Sea Moss Farine : will hereafter 
be quoted as a food staple in the markets of the world. — The World. 

ce it will be cheap as long as the sea and rocks last — which will be long 
enough for all practicable purposes. Our main object in this article has been 
to piace what we believe to be a subject of great importance, in its true light ; 
nothing more, nothing less. — Home Journal. 



VOL. XLI. 
321 The Pirate's Legacy 
lie Charcoal Burner 
3 3 Adel 

or V alienee 
.rest Rose 
826 Duke's /laughter 
3.7 Caniilla's Husband 
?j3 Pure Gold 



{Catalogue conti^^f^. from second page of cover.) 

VOL. XLII. 
329 Ticket or Leave Man 
3o0 Fool's Revenge 
831 O'Ncil the Great 
332 Handy j\ndy 
3;:s Pirate of the Isles 



331 Fanchon 

335 Little Barefoot 

336 Wild Irish Girl 



VOL. XLIII. 
337 Pearl of ^avoy 
833 Dead Heart 
33!) Ten N ; g!its in a Bar-room 
310 Dumb Boy of Manchester 
il Belphc got- the Mountebank 



312 Cricket on the Hearth 

313 Printer's Devil 
344 Meg's Diversion 



VOL. XLIV. 
345 Drunkard's Doom 

316 Chimney Corner 

317 Fifteen Years of aDrunk- 
313 No Thoroughfare Tarrt's 
319 Peep O'Day [Life 
3"0 Everybody's Friend 
Hamlet, in Three Acts 
Guttle & Gulpit 



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AND ' DRAWING-ROOM ENTER- 
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an original Comedy, a Burlesque and Farce 40 



THE ETHIOPIAN DRAMA. 



(NEW SERIES.) 



NO. 

I Blinks f.iid Jinks 
9. Lucky Number 

3 Somebody s Coat 

4 Trip tt Paris 

5 Arriv. 1 of Dickens 

6 Blaci OleBull 

7 Blackest Tragedy of All 

wo. 

1 Robert Make-Airs 

2 B( i and Cox 

3 iV izeppa 

4 1 nited States Mail 

5 The Coopers 

6 Old Dad s Cabin 

7 '?he Rival Lovers 

8 The Sham Doctor 

9 Jolly Millers 

10 Villikinsandhis Dinah 

II The Quack Doctor 

12 The Mystic Spell 

13 The Black Statue 

14 Uncle Jeff 

15 The Mischievous Nigger 

16 The BlacK Shoemaker 



8 Tom and Jerry, and Who' 

been Here 

9 No Tator. or Man Fish 

10 Who Stole tho Chickens 

11 Upper Ten Thousand 

12 Rip Van Winkle 



13 Ten Days in the Tombs 

14 Two Pompeys 

15 Running the Blockade 

16 Jeemes the Poet 

17 Intelligence Office 

18 Echo Band 



NO. 

19 Deserters 

20 Deaf as a Post 

21 Dead Alive 

22- Cousin Joe's Visit 

23 Boarding School 

24 Academy of Stars 



NO. 

17 The Magic Penny 

18 The Wreck | ny C'.'pids 

19 OhHushlorTheVnrgin- 

20 The Portrait Pair er 

21 The Hop of Fash on 

22 Bone Squash 

23 The Virginia Mu. any 

24 Thieves at the M : U 

25 Comedy of Errol 1 

26 LesMiserables \ 

27 New Year's Calli^ 

28 Troublesome St 'Pant 

29 Great Arrival 

30 Rooms to Let 

31 Black Crook Bit ^tesque 

32 Ticket Taker 



NO. 

33 Hypochondriac 

34 William Tell 

35 Rose Dale 
3fi Feast 

37 Fenian Spy 

38 Jack's the Lad 

39 Othello 

40 Camille 

41 Nobody's Son 

42 Sports on a Lark 

43 Actor and Singer 

44 Shylock 

45 Quarrelsome Servants 

46 Haunted House 

47 No Cure, No Pay 



NO. 

48 Fighting for the Union 

49 Hamlet the Dainty 

50 Corsican Twins 

51 Deaf — in a Horn 

52 Challenge Dance 

53 De Trouble begins at Nine 

54 Scenes at Gurney's 

55 16,000 Years Ago 

56 Stage-struck Darkey 

57 Black Mail [ Clothes 

58 Highest Price for Old 

59 Howls from the Owl Train 
CO Old Hunks 

61 The Three Black Smiths 

62 Turkeys in Season 



Tony Denier's Parlor Pantomimes — In Ten Parts, 25 Cts. each. 



No. I.— A Memoir of the Author. By S;f tester 
Bleeker, Esq. How to Express the V< rious 
Passions, Actions, etc. The Four Lovh is; or, 
Les Rivales' Rendezvous. The Frisky Co) Sler ; 
or, The Rival Artisans. 

No. II.— The Rise and Progress of Pant 1 ^hiime. 
The Schoolmaster ; or the School in an Uproar. 
Belle of Madrid; or, a Muleteer's Brie 2. La 
Statue Blanche ; or, The Lovers' Stratag -Jm. 

No. III.— M. Dechalumeau: or. The Eirthday 
Fete. The Demon Lover; or, The Frightened 
Family. Robert Macaire ; or, Les Deux F igitifs. 

No. IV.— Jocko, the Brazilian Ape; Pr, The 
Mischievous Monkey. The Conscript ; or, How to 
Avoid the Draft. The Magic Flute; or, lhe Ma- 
gician's Spell. 



No. V.— The Vivandiere ; or, The Daughter of the 

Regiment. Dame Thot and her Comical Cat: 

or, The Misfortunes of Johnny Greene. 
No. VI.— Godenski ; or, The Skaters of Wilnau. 

The Enchanted Horn ; or, The Witches' Gift. 
No. VII.— The Soldier fop. Love ; or, a Hero in 

Spite of Himself. Simeon's Mishaps; or, The 

Hungarian Rendezvous. 
No. VIII— The Village Ghost; or, Love* and 

Murder both Found Out. The Fairies' Frolic; 

or, The Good Wife's Three Wishes. 
No. IX.— The Rose of Sharon ; or, The Unlucky 

Fisherman. Po\'GO. the Intelligent Ape, and 

the Unfortunate Overseer. 
No. X.— Mons. Toupet, the Dancing Barber; 

or, Love and Lather. Vol au Vent and the 

Millers ; or, A Night's Adventures. 



Samuel French, Publisher, 



Any of the above sent fcy Mail or Express, on reCSpt of price. 



122 Nassau Street (Up Stauss). 



J8Sf New and explicit Desc^ "Vive Catalogue Mailed Free on kequest. 



FRENCH'S MINOR DRAMAS 



Price 15 Cents each.— Bound Volumes $1. 25. 



VOL, I. 

1 The Irish Attorney 

2 Boots at the Swau 

8 How to pay the Rent 

4 The Loan of a Lover 

5 Too Dead Shot 

6 His Last i^egs 

7 The Invisible Prince 

8 The Goiden Parmer 

VOL. IT. 

9 Pride of the Market 

10 Used Up 

11 The Irish Tutor 

12 The Barrack Room 

13 Luke the Laborer 

14 Beauty and the Beast 

15 St. Patrick' s Eve 

16 Cf.ptain of the Watch 

VOL. III. 

17 The Secret [pers 

18 White Horse of the Pep- 

19 The Jacobite 

20 The Bottle 

21 Box and Cox 

22 Bamboozling 

23 Widow's Victim 

24 Robert Mac&ire 

VOL, IV. 

25 Secret Service 

26 Omnibus 

27 Irish Lion 

28 Maid of Croissy 

29 The Old Guard 

80 Raising the Wind 

81 Slasher and Crasher 

82 Naval Engagements 

VOL. V. 
33 Oocknies in California 
84 Who Speaks First 
35 Bomuaste j urioso 
86 Macbeth Travestie 

37 Irish Ambassador 

38 Delicate Ground 

39 The W eathercock [Gold 

40 All that Glitters is Not 

VOL. VI. 

41 Grimshaw, Bagshaw and 

Bradshaw 

42 Rough Diamond 

43 Bloomer Costume 

44 Two Bonnycastles 

45 Born to Good Luck 

46 Kiss in the Dark [jurer 
47' T would Puzzle a Con- 
48 Kill or Cure 



73 It 

74 P 

75 Ii 

76 T 

77 T 

78 

79 Si 

80 Y 

81 O' 

82 Ir„ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




014 114 911 8 



VOL. VII. 

49 Box and Cox Married and 

50 St. Cupid | Settled 

51 Go-to-bed Tom 

52 The Lawyers 

53 Jack Sbeppard 

54 The Toodles 

55 The Mobcap 

56 Ladies Beware 

VOL. VIII. 
67 MorniQg Call 

58 Popping the Question 

59 Deaf as a Post 

60 New Footman 

61 Pleasant Neighbor 

62 Paddy the Piper 

63 Brian O Linn 

64 Irish Assurance 

VOL. IX. 

65 Temptation 

66 Paddy Carey 

67 Two Gregories 

68 King Charming 

69 Poca-hon-tas 

70 Clockmaker's Hat 

71 Married Rake 
7a Love and Murder 

VOL. XXXVII. 
289 All the World's a Stags 

390 Quasb, or Nigger Practice 

391 Turn Him Out 

392 Pretty Girls of Stillberg 

393 Angel of the Attic 

394 Circumstances alter Case* 
396 Rally O'Sbeal 
396 A Supper in Dixie 



83 My Neighbor's Wife 

84 Irish Tiger 

85 P. P., or Man and Tiger 

86 To Oblige Benson 

87 State Secrets 

88 Irish Yankee 

VOL. XII. 

89 A Good Fellow 

90 Cherry and Fair Star 

91 Gale Breezely 

92 Our Jemirny 

93 Miller's Maid 

94 Awkward Arrival 

95 Crossing the Line 

96 Conjugal Lesson 

VOL. XIII. 

97 My Wife's Mirror 

98 Life in New York 

99 Middy Ashore 

100 Crown Prince 

101 Two Queens 

102 Thumping Legacy 

103 Unfinished Gentleman 

104 House Dog 

VOL, XIV. 

105 ""le Dsmor „,over 
10fj Matrimony 

107 In and Out of Place 

108 I Dine with My Mother 

109 Hi-a-wa-tha 

110 Andy Blake 

111 Love in '76 [ties 

112 Romance under Difficul 

VOL. XV. 

113 One Coat for 2 Suits 

114 A Decided Case 
lloDaught: [nority 

116 No; or, the Glorious Mi- 

117 Coroner's Inquisiiion 

118 Love in Humble Life 

119 Family Jars 

120 Personation 

VOL. XVI". 

121 Children in the Wood 

122 Winning a HusbaDd 

123 Day after the Fair 

124 Make Your Wills 

125 Rendezvous 

126 My Wife's Husband 

127 Monsieur Tonson 

128 Illustrious Stranger 

VOL. XVII 

129 Mischief -Making [Mines 

130 A Live Woman in the 

131 The CoFsair 

132 Shylock 

133 Spoiled Child 

134 Evil Eye 

135 Nothing to Nurse 

136 Wanted a Widow 

VOL. XVIII. 

137 Lottery Ticket 

138 Fortuue' s Frolic 

139 Is he Jealous i 

140 Harriet .'.achelor 

141 Husband at Sight 
14^ irishman in London 

143 Animal Magnetism 

144 Highways ar.d By- Ways 

VOL. XXXVIII. 

297 lei on Parle Francai* 

298 Who Killed Cock Kobin 

299 Declaration of Independence 

300 Head.* or Tails 

301 Obstinate Familj 

302 My Aunt 

303 That Rascal Pat 

304 Don Paddy de Bazan 



[Ties '« Trreatr rxagiC IteVlVa 



rival 



155 High Low Jack & Game 

156 A Gentleman from Ire- 

157 Tom and Jerry [land 

158 Village Lawyer 

159 Captain's not A-aiiss 

160 Amateurs and Actors 

VOL. •XXI. 

161 Promotion [nal 

162 A Fascinating Individ- 

163 Mrs. Caudle 

164 Shakspeare's Dream 

165 Neptune's Defeat 

166 Lady of Bedchamber 
i67 Take Care of Little 

168 Irish Widow [ Charley 

VOL. XXII. 

169 Yankee Peddlar 

170 Hiram Hireout 

171 Double-Bedded Room 

172 The Drama Defended 

173 Vermont Wool Dealer 

174 Ebenezer Venture |ter 

175 Principles from Charac- 

176 Lady of the Lake (Trav) 

VOL. XXIII. 
17. jfac _>ogs 

178 Barney the Baron 

179 Swiss Swains 

180 Bachelor's Bedroom 
131 A Roland for an Oliver 

182 More Blunders than One 

183 Dumb Belle 

184 Limerick Boy 

VOL. XXIV. 

185 Nature and Philosophy 

186 Teddy the Tiler 

187 Spectre Bridgroom 
1S8 Matteo Falcone 

189 Jenny Lind 

190 Two Buzzards 

191 Happy Man 

192 Betsy Baker 

VOL. XXV. 

193 No. 1 Round the Corner 

194 Teddy Roe 

195 Object of Interest 

196 My Fellow Clerk 

197 Bengal Tiger 

198 Laughing Hyena 

199 The Victor Vanquished 

200 Our Wife 

VOL. XXVI. 

201 My Husband's Mirror 

202 Yankee Land. 

203 Norah Creina 

204 Good for Nothing 

205 The First Night 

206 The Eton Boy 

207 Wardering Minstrel 

208 Wanted, ..000 Milliners 

/OL. XXVII. 
20fc Poor Pilcoddy 



VOL. XXVIII. 

217 Crinoline 

218 A Family Failing 

219 Adopted Child 
k«20 Turnfcd Heads 

221 -t Match in the Dark 

222 Advice to Husbands 

223 Siamese Twins 

224 Sent to the Tower 
VOL. XXIX 

225 Somebody Else 

226 Ladies' Battle 
2;7 Art of Acting 

228 The Lady of the Lions 

229 The Rights of Man 

230 My Husband' s Ghost 

231 Two Can Play at that 
Game 

232 Fighting by Proxy 
VOL. XXX. 

233 Unprotected Female 

234 Pet of the Petticoats 

235 Forty and Fifty |book 

236 Who Stole the Pocket- 

237 My Son Diana [sion 

238 Unwarrantable Intru- 

239 Mr. and Mrs White 

240 A Quiet Family 
VOL. XXXI. 

241 Cool as Cucumber 

242 Sudden Thoughts 

243 Jumbo Jum 

244 A Blighted Being 

245 Little Toddlekins 

246 A Lover by Proxy [Pail 

247 Maid with the Milking 

248 PerplexintrPredicamen. 
/OL. XXXII. 

249 Dr. Dilworth 

250 Out to Nurse 

251 A Lucky Hit 

252 The Dowager 
"3 Metamora (Burlesque) 



w4 Dreams of Delusion 

255 The Shaker Lovers 

256 Ticklish Times 
VOL. XXXIII. 

257 20 Minutes withaTiger 

258 Miralda: or, the Justice 
of Tacon 

259 A Soldier's Courtship 

260 Servants by Legacy 

261 Dying for Love 

262 Alarming Sacrifice 

263 Valet de Sham 

264 Nicholas Nickleby 
VOL. XXXIV. 

265 The Last of the Pigtails 

266 King Rene's Daughter 

267 The Grotto Nrmph 

268 A Devilish Good Joke 

269 A Twice Told Tale 

270 Pas de Fascination 

271 Revolutionary Soldier 

272 AMauWithouta Head 
VOL. XXXV. 

273 The Olio, Parti 

274 The Olio, Par 2 

275 The Olio, Part J [ter 
27C The Trumpeter' s Daugh- 

277 Seeing Warren 

278 Green Mountain Boy 
2'<9 That Nose 

Tom Noddy's Secret 

VOL. XXXVI. 



210 The Mummy [Glasses 281 Shocking Events 

211 Don't Forgety our Opera''"" 

212 Love in Livery 

213 Anthony and Cleopatra 

214 Trving It On. 

215 Stage Struck Yankee 

216 Young Wife & Old Urn- 

brella 



2 A Regul ar Fix 

283 Dick Turpi. 

284 Young Scamp 

285 Youns; Actress 

286 Call at No 1-7 

287 One 'I onch of Nature. 

288 Two B'hoys 
VOL. XXXIX. 

305 Too Much for Good Nature. 306 Cure for the Fidget*. 



Anything on this Covtr lent fret oy nail, on receipt *f price. 

New and explicit Descriptive List mailed free on request. 
SA3IUEL FRENCH, Publisher, 122 Nassau St-< N. Y. 



